Debt
by katy-did
Summary: Part 1 of Remittance Series. Manipulating the emotions of others was a relatively simple thing, any halfway decent artist could do it.
1. Chapter 1

The entire room smelled like clove cigarettes. Which was odd since it didn't appear that anyone was smoking. The last time Roy had smelled clove cigarettes was back in art school. The scent reminded him of long nights in the common room, mostly sitting by himself, just painting or sketching. Listening as his classmates talked around him. As they whispered about things he could never understand. Things he would never be able to see. There was something about the smell that would always be linked to foolish pride and silent loneliness. It was odd and a bit distracting.

It definitely wasn't what Roy expected from a warehouse full of mobsters. But then he was relatively new to the underground mob scene. Maybe this is what all their meetings smelled like. And the warehouse definitely wasn't as dark as the movies and TV shows made them out to be. Even with his shades on, he could see clearly without any issues. Which had been a minor concern when Cold had first proposed Roy join this little meeting. Roy had been worried he would walk into a wall with his shades on at all times. But he had walked into the room tonight and been mildly surprised at how much the warehouse looked like a banquet hall.

No broken windows. No chains hanging from the ceiling. Not a puddle in sight. There was always a puddle in the movies, like it was always raining or had just rained…and he was getting distracted.

It wouldn't do to screw this up. All he had to do was provide a little insurance, and his debt would be repaid. Roy would be glad when this was over. Cold had to know that a meeting with the heads of the six mob families of Central City was a bit out of Roy's league. The highest profile job Roy had pulled prior to his powers was stealing a painting from a museum. A museum with no security. He had gotten caught within two days of that heist.

Hell, getting caught while pulling a job was how he realized he had powers in the first place. He had been running low on cash, barely had any money to buy paints, let alone nonessentials like food. So he tried for something quick and easy. He grabbed a purse. Teenagers pulled off simple stuff like that all the time and got away scot-free. But of course he managed to grab a purse from an off duty police officer, who then proceeded to chase him down with embarrassing ease. His face was pressed on the ground and his hands behind his back so quickly he barely had time to be upset with himself. He had even resigned himself to the 6 to 10 month stint he was sure to do, when he saw them.

The policewoman had him on the ground, but he managed to turn his head slightly towards the mouth of the alleyway. He saw a group of two or three men standing there. Watching him. Gawking at the scene. Roy could hear them, could see their eyes. They were laughing. Laughing at him, at how easy he had been taken down. How pathetic they thought he was. Looking at him like he was nothing. Worthless.

He felt an anger so strong, the rage seemed to claw through his chest. It tore through his veins. His eyes had felt like they were on fire.

The men started to fight. Viciously fight. There was blood and teeth and scratching. They were like animals fighting over a fresh kill. Roy and the policewoman were shocked. She stood up, removing her knee from his back. She took one look at him, handcuffed and lying on the ground, and made her decision. She rushed over to separate the men who were now trying to brain one another with their briefcases. She hadn't seen him as a threat. Roy had given up without a fight, hadn't even resisted when she slapped the cuffs on. The men at the mouth of the alley were clearly the more immediate threat. They were the dangerous ones. He was just a simple purse thief. He had watched the fight for a few moments, something inside him telling him that he was responsible. That he had created that emotion in those men. He had run out of the alley as quickly as possible.

It took several weeks for him to figure out how to turn it off and on at will. How to make people so angry they wouldn't think to look at him. Anger, rage, they were definitely the emotions Roy felt the most comfortable inciting in others. Which was another reason he was hesitant to take this job.

Cold didn't want rage. He didn't want the mob bosses murdering each other over their dinners. He wanted calm. He wanted peace. He wanted Roy to make sure they were all willing to listen. That if anyone got out of hand, Roy could make them "chill out".

Honestly, Roy had to admire Snart's commitment to ice puns.

He had practiced using his powers to calm people down for several days leading up to the meeting. Mostly on people who passed him in the park. Harassed looking parents would suddenly not care that their kids had been screaming for the past 45 minutes. He even managed to make a woman stop crying. What she had been crying about he didn't know, but she stopped for a few moments. For a few moments, the weight of her problems meant absolutely nothings. Of course she most likely started right back up when Roy headed back to his flat, but that wasn't the point.

He had been squatting in a flat across from the park for the past few weeks. He had no choice since the Flash knew about the location of his old loft. Funny how his old landlord hadn't accepted his excuse of being imprisoned against his will for several months as a legitimate reason for not paying rent. Roy was just glad the man had thrown all his paintings in the basement instead of throwing them away. He supposed that was the one upside of being taken in by the Flash, the cops hadn't confiscated everything in his apartment because, technically, he hadn't been arrested.

So. There was at least one upside to illegal prisons.

Having his paints back had helped him with his calming techniques. Helped him stay focused on keeping others calm. On seeing nothing but a wide open space around him. It kept his mind free of any…unpleasant thoughts that could compromise the job. If he could paint, then he could be calm. Months without being able to paint had been torture. More torturous than not being able to stretch out completely, than eating nothing but fast food, of knowing that every move was being watched and….

Roy didn't realize he was standing completely still until Lisa Snart elbowed him in the ribs. She gave him an odd look then continued walking past.

Roy took a moment, then walked out of the main room. The hallway was quiet. It was a long corridor, stretching in both directions. He could see the exit to his right. There was an exit. There was a way out. He could leave at any time. He was free to go wherever he wanted. He slowed his breathing. He was calm. He could be calm.

He was wearing his shades, no one else in the other room would have been unintentionally affected by his emotions. He could only imagine how pissed Cold would be if Roy ruined this whole deal by making everyone in the room have a panic attack.

Not that he was having a panic attack. That wasn't it of course. He was just…

Calm. He just had to keep everyone calm. It was a simple job. He could do this simple job and then be done.

Roy took another deep breath then walked back into the main room. The meeting was still on going, Cold hadn't looked up from his conversation, but Roy was certain the man noticed everything. Mick Rory and Lisa Snart were standing off to the side. Lisa was flirting with a younger man who couldn't possibly hold any type of position of power within the families. Mick was just standing behind them, glaring at everyone and everything. He was sure all of the mobsters knew why Lisa and Mick were at this meeting. Why Leonard Snart would want their particular skill sets. Roy wondered if any of them knew about his.

Roy resisted the urge to pull out his phone and text Mardon. He wondered what the other man was up to. They had only spoken a few times since they had been released, barely qualified as friends. But Mardon's was the only number in his phone. And Roy was starting to get bored of standing around and doing nothing. Were all meetings between mobsters so…business like? Roy lifted his hand towards his shades, intending to rub his eyes, but quickly put his hand back down. Cold had been looking directly at him. At least, Roy thought the man was looking at him. It was hard to tell behind those goggles he insisted on wearing anytime Roy was present.

Cold had told Roy in no uncertain terms that Roy was to leave his shades on at all times. It had been the main sticking point, drilled into him from their first meeting. If Roy removed his shades without Cold's approval, Cold would kill him. No warnings, no second chances. The shades come off, Roy dies. None of the Rogues were metas and they all seemed leery of working with one.

Especially Mick. The man had glared at Roy the entire initial meeting. And the second meeting. And most of tonight. His fingers constantly twitching towards the gun on his hip. Roy wasn't certain what Mick thought Roy was going to do to him, but he was sure the man would light him on fire if his glasses had even slid down his nose a fraction of an inch. If they didn't trust metas, why was Cold so insistent on working with them? Mardon had already repaid his debt to Cold. Though he hadn't given Roy any details about it. He didn't even know if Mardon had used his powers when he worked with the Rogues. Roy hadn't seen anything about weird weather patterns on the news in the past few weeks so he couldn't be sure.

Roy had tried talking to Mardon about their powers once. Why it seemed to be that some powers seemed linked to the personality of the person. And others to the situation they found themselves in when it happened. Shawna had been a thief, so the ability to disappear would have come in handy. But Nimbus and Mardon seemed to gain their powers from the environment they were in when the particle accelerator struck. Mardon had been less than receptive to Roy's inquiry. Something to do with his brother's fate most likely. Roy had enough sense to drop the subject when it started looking like a tornado was going to form inside his newly acquired flat.

Roy knew why he had gained his distinctive powers. He was an artist. It was an artist's job to make people feel things. To make them aware of emotions they didn't know they possessed. To bring those emotions to the surface, whether the person wanted to feel them or not.

After a few more minutes of staring at the wall to his left, Roy gave in and pulled out his phone. He sent Mardon a short text, asking if his stint in repaying Cold had been as mind numbingly boring.

Mardon didn't respond. Not that Roy expected him to. Still it was nice to at least pretend that he had something to do at this meeting. Roy looked up from his phone to see Cold heading towards him. He quickly stuffed the phone back into his pocket. Snart gave a smirk at the action.

"Everything alright Roy?"

"Yes…I, of course. Meeting over?"

Roy knew that Cold wasn't a meta, that he had no extra sensory powers. But it was damned unnerving how easy the man could read people.

"Don't worry Roy, you'll be out of here and out of my debt in no time. Just wrapping up a few things with my associates."

"Looks like you didn't need my assistance to get these men to do what you want."

"I was never going to use you to get what I wanted. Like I said, you were just insurance incase anyone decided to act on some old grudges. Besides, getting them to work with me when they were under your influence hardly would have counted."

"Counted?"

Snart's smile only widened.

"Of course. I need them to see this as a good thing for all parties, and I needed them to come to that conclusion on their own. Without any outside influences."

"Except for yours."

"Exactly. I need this to be a long term arrangement." Snart started to move away then stopped at the last moment. "Oh, by the way, several of the men here are aware of meta-humans. And several of them have friends within the police force. Don't be surprised if one of them asks for a demonstration of your particular skill set. Remember the rules, Roy." Snart turned and walked away.

Roy wanted to punch Snart in his smug face. Except he knew exactly how that would end. And he didn't particularly feel like being frozen solid, set on fire, and then covered in gold.

Roy glanced at Cold's turned back and decided to risk it. He quickly rubbed his eyes under his shades. God he just wanted to go home and paint until he couldn't see straight. All this annoyance and he wasn't even getting paid.

An agonizing amount of time passed, but eventually the men and women at the meeting began to leave. Most of them leaving without any sign of hostility, looking more like satisfied business people than murderous mobsters. There were less than ten people left now, excluding the Rogues and himself. Mick Rory was standing behind Snart, looking every bit like the psychopathic muscle Roy was only half certain he was pretending to be. Lisa was still talking to that young man, Roy wondered at that for a moment.

What could she possibly want from him? Maybe he was the son of someone important. Although he thought he had seen Cold give Lisa a disapproving look earlier so…

"Excuse me, you are Roy Bivolo correct?"

Roy liked to think he hid his startled jump at the man's question, but he doubted it.

"Yes. That's…that's me."

Roy looked over towards the others. Snart and Rory were facing the other way. Lisa didn't look like she even knew there was anyone else in the room.

"My name is Alford Jackson." The man stuck out his hand. Roy took a moment to look at him. He was an older man, maybe in his fifties. There was something…slick about him. His beard was a trimmed a little too perfectly, his clothes too pressed, his shoes too clean. Roy realized he hadn't taken the man's hand and quickly shook it. Damn, it would be his luck to blow this entire thing because he didn't shake some mob bosses' son's hand.

Roy dropped his hand and said nothing. He wasn't sure what Mr. Jackson wanted. Let alone why he was over here talking to Roy instead of the Rogues.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to interrupt your solitude. It is just that I like to speak with every man I will be working with before I get into business with them."

There was something in the way the man spoke that reminded Roy of his middle school principal. The man had always had a way of making Roy uneasy, no matter what they were talking about. It didn't matter if Principal Diam was scolding Roy for not getting along with other kids or praising him for his drawing ability. There was always something in his voice that made Roy want to take a few steps back. To always be out of the man's reach. Just in case.

"Ok."

Roy secreted another glance towards Cold. Still the man's back was turned.

"She's quite beautiful isn't she?"

"Who?"

Roy didn't really need the clarification, Lisa Snart was the only woman left in the room.

"Ms. Snart of course. She is quite the beauty."

"Um…yea. She's…"

"And so strong willed. I must admit, she has shunned all my attempts to get to know her better."

"You two know each other?"

"We have run into each other several times over the years, usually at gatherings such as this."

Roy wondered how many times international thieves and mobsters got together for meetings. It couldn't possibly…

"And she is always so…quick to rebuff me. I must admit, it makes me want her all the more. To see that fierce will of hers cowed beneath me, well I'm sure you can imagine the thrill."

Roy unconsciously took a step back. He cursed himself for not getting any of the other Rogues phone numbers. Hadn't seen the point at the time, they all arrived together. They were all going to be in the same room, and Roy wasn't intending on interacting with any of them when this was all over. A quick SOS to one of them would have been a relief right now.

Roy tried not to react. He just had to stay calm.

"She is something else."

"Exactly. And from what I understand, you are precisely the man to help me with such a delicate situation."

Roy turned his head sharply toward the older man, just in time to see Jackson place something in Roy's hand. Roy looked at it for a moment. It took few seconds for his mind to process what he was seeing.

"It's $5,000. You can count it if you like. I am willing to negotiate the price, if you need more for your little trick."

Roy just stared at the money a moment longer. He wasn't sure how to even begin to respond.

"I'm not a pimp."

"And Lisa is no whore. Believe me I have had plenty of those. The idea that a woman like that, so strong and defensive, could come to me willingly. Well, that is an opportunity too good to pass up. Her brother could hardly have an issue if she were to come to me first, now could he? There would be no problems if she were the instigator of a little…"

Roy had stopped listening. There was $5,000 in his hand. It was more money than he had held since the bank robbery. And he hadn't even gotten the chance to spend that money. Prior to that, Roy hadn't had more than a couple thousand to his name in his entire life. The life of a starving artist and all that. Roy had always dreamed that one day his paintings would sell, that he would have this kind of money to do with whatever he wanted. To buy whatever he wanted.

Now he finally had it...

Roy stared at the man in front of him. He gripped the money tightly in his hand. His first payout, his first big score. And this man had ruined it. Tainted it.

He had made Roy's ability, his art, something cheap and dirty.

Roy was struck by a memory. The first time he had sold one of his paintings in art school. How elated he had been. How his feelings of frustration and despair had almost been forgotten. It had all been worth it. He was finally going to be vindicated. All those people who had mocked him, had told him to abandon his dreams, had told him he would never be able to make it as an artist.

They had mocked him. Who would buy a painting, if the artist never used color? How could someone ever truly express passion on the canvas without using the color red, or despair without the color blue? What kind of vision could a man have, who only saw the world in black and white?

Finally, he had thought, his gifts were being recognized for what they were. Finally people would see the beauty in what he saw, in what he felt. His elation had lasted less than a day. He soon found out that the man who bought his painting had been hired to do so. Hired by some of Roy's more brutish classmates. They had thought it would be funny. A joke, that was what Roy's work was to them. What they thought of his talents. They thought it was funny to see Roy finally realize the truth. No one else would ever see the world from his perspective.

To hell with them. They didn't deserve to see what he saw. To feel the emotions he could portray in his paintings. They were beneath him, they didn't have half of his skill. They were petty little creatures.

His first crime had been breaking into their rooms and destroying all of their original works. Entire semesters, years, of work destroyed in a single night. It was the one thing he was most proud of in his entire criminal career. The only crime he had gotten away with. There hadn't been enough evidence to prove that it was him.

Roy could feel the anger start to build in his chest, but he pushed it down. No. Not anger. Anger was too pure an emotion for a Neanderthal like this man. Alford Jackson didn't deserve to feel something so honest. This man was a coward. Alford Jackson wanted to feel powerful by making someone else feel broken. He deserved something more than anger.

He deserved fear.

Roy slipped his glasses down. If Jackson knew how Roy's powers worked he showed no sign. He didn't react when Roy stared directly in to his eyes. He didn't move or flinch when they glowed a bright yellow.

Jackson screamed. It was a guttural, primal noise. Less like a scream, and more like the sound an animal makes as it is being eaten alive. Alford Jackson hit the ground, his knees making a sickening sound on the concrete. He was clutching at his head so tightly he was drawing blood.

Roy smirked at the man on the floor. Roy had never tried fear before. He wondered if everyone would have such a strong reaction to it. Roy wanted to mock the man, wanted to ask him what he thought of Roy's talent now.

Any attempts to find out where cut short by a sudden explosive amount of pain, perpetrated by a bullet embedding itself in his left arm. Roy was knocked backwards, he hit the ground so hard his teeth shook. He wasn't entirely sure what happened next. The temperature in the room seemed to fluctuate widely. One moment Roy was freezing, the next he was certain he was on fire. He felt an arm pull him up and was mildly surprised to see Leonard Snart dragging him out of the room. The man wasn't speaking. No bravado, no quips about their situation, no puns.

Roy knew Cold was going to kill him the moment they were out of the range of gunfire. Snart's grip was crushing, Roy had no way of getting out of it. The pain in his arm was distracting him from even considering using his powers to try and escape.

The next thing Roy was aware of, he was being thrown to the ground. He was inside a house. At least, he thought he was. His face was on a carpet and he was almost certain that was a couch to his left. Though it looked a little lopsided. How much time had passed? Had he been in car? He had a vague memory of moving, of speeding somewhere. He had just started to get his bearings when he was pulled up and slammed into a wall.

It was so hard to breathe. It took a moment to realize it was because Mick Rory was choking him to death. Roy tried to lift his arms, but his left one was completely useless and the other kept getting swatted down. Mick could choke Roy to death with one hand. That was sort of impressive.

He could hear yelling but he wasn't sure what was being said. Suddenly he was on the ground again. The fog in his mind started to clear. The voices were so loud and so close.

"…shit! You should let me burn him!"

"I said no Mick! I want to know what happened…"

"You want to know what happened? You want to know what happened? What happened is this little piece of shit screwed us! All that work down the drain because freak show here wanted to play with some dip shit's head. Jackson was so low level, the damn bosses only brought him in case they needed a human shield. But now…"

"Now…the situation has changed Mick. The O'Donnelly's were the only family still left at the meeting. The other bosses…"

"The other bosses are going to think we let them leave and then tried to kill the O'Donnelly's when we had them alone brother dear. Mick's right, we should…"

Roy finally managed to get himself into a seated position. He supposed he should have preferred to be standing, isn't that how everyone was supposed to want to go out? Standing on their feet? Roy didn't think he could muster the energy to stand. Maybe he could just ask Snart to tell people that he died standing.

Not that anyone would ask.

Snart was kneeling in front of him. The man was still wearing his parka, his goggles still firmly in place. Roy was certain he wasn't wearing his own shades any more. He noticed how Mick and Lisa were standing protectively behind Cold, but neither were looking anywhere near Roy's eyes. Their guns were trained on him with unflinching accuracy.

"Roy."

Roy turned towards Cold's voice. It was deceptively calm.

"I know I said no rage. But I thought you understood that I meant no emotions that could compromise the meeting. Was I not clear?"

"…you…" Roy started to cough. The word had barely made it out, if it had at all. His throat was on fire from Mick's attack, and speaking was going to be a chore for a while. If he lived that long, of course.

"You see Roy, after Mardon repaid his debt, he assured me you wouldn't be a problem. You would do what you were asked and then be on your way. He seemed to think that you wanted nothing to do with all this and would be glad to be rid of our merry band of thieves. I had reservations about using Mardon because of how…temperamental he could be. But you….it would appear that I vastly underestimated your intelligence."

Roy managed to give Cold a dirty look. A few seconds later Roy remembered that Cold was most likely going to kill him and perhaps insulting the man wasn't the way to prevent being frozen and shattered into a million pieces.

"Now. I like to think that I am a reasonable man. Although my sister tells me that I have a tendency to let my curiosity…"

"Obsessions."

Snart continued as though his sister hadn't spoken.

"get the better of me. Take this for example."

Cold pulled a wad of cash from inside his parka. Even with the blood stains on it, Roy recognized it immediately. Roy was fading fast, the blood loss from his arm wound was starting to make itself known. But he managed a respectable glare at the offending money.

"I'm curious as to why you had this money in your hands, and what exactly it was that Jackson was paying you to do."

"Jesus Len, the asshole was paying Rainbow Bright here to do some job…"

Rainbow Raider. Roy felt it was important people remember that part at least. He liked that much better than Prism. Prism didn't even make sense. Roy was curious as to how man like Mick Rory knew who Rainbow Bright even was. Mick hardly seemed like the type to watch Saturday morning cartoons while stoned out of his mind in a college dorm. Maybe Mick saw them in prison, Roy remembered the first stint he did, the warden insisted on having Sesame Street play in the evenings, seemed to think it would…

"Roy." Cold was snapping his fingers in Roy's face. He got the distinct impression it wasn't the first time. Cold looked mildly annoyed.

"If you would be so kind as to answer my question before you bleed to death all over my nice rug."

Roy opened his mouth, but started coughing again. His throat wouldn't respond. Damn it. He was going to die here all because he didn't have the chance to explain. Not that he was sure Snart would care about Roy's reasons. He didn't know the Snarts that well. Maybe Cold wouldn't have cared. Maybe he would have considered giving Lisa to Jackson all a part of doing business with the mob. Cold had mentioned that people might want a demonstration of his abilities. Maybe Cold had sent Jackson over to him.

He looked at Cold, hoping that the man could use whatever gift he had for reading people to see what Roy was trying to say. Hoped that the man had at least some semblance of love for his sister.

Roy looked Cold square in the eyes. Then he looked at the money. Then he stared at Lisa.

He repeated the last two looks. Money. Lisa.

Money. Lisa.

Money. Lisa.

Money…

Roy felt Cold grab his chin. When had his eyes closed? He tried to open his them but it was just so difficult. He couldn't get his eyelids to respond.

"…grab his legs."

Roy wanted to stay conscious. He should at least be conscious for his own death he supposed. But stubbornness was no match for blood loss, he passed out just as he felt someone lifting him off the ground.

* * *

When Roy woke up, he was lying on a bed. He seemed to be in someone's bedroom. It felt oddly homey, the quilt over his legs looked new. He tried to lift his head to get a better look, then stopped as he left a sharp pain in his arm. There was a bandage wrapped around his wound and a sling pining his arm to his chest. Most peculiar, aside from waking up at all or the IV hanging next to the bed, was the book on the night stand beside him. It was lying open, as though someone had just been sitting there reading it.

Roy heard someone approaching. He tried to lift himself up, find some kind of weapon. He could still defend himself. Just because he was going to lose didn't mean he wouldn't at least try to fight. He reached for the night stand, and suddenly found his hand encased in someone else's.

"Whoa, easy there killer. Don't want you screwing up all my handiwork."

Roy blinked a few moments at the sudden appearance of another person.

"Shawna?"

"What's up Roy? Heard you went and got yourself shot on your first real job."

"What are you doing here?"

Shawna pointed to the bandages on his arm.

"Looks like those two semesters of nursing school are finally going to pay off." She smiled and then put her hand on his forehead. "Doesn't look like you've got a fever."

Roy resisted the urge to shrink back from her touch. He wasn't used to people getting this close to him. Especially not touching his head.

"You can stop touching me now."

"Geez, right sorry. Like I said, only took a few semesters. Didn't really get to the class on professionalism." She sat down in the chair beside the bed and closed the book.

"Where are the others?" Roy's voice was still hoarse, but at least he was able to string together sentences. How long had he been asleep?

"Oh man. You should have seen it. You know that scene in every action movie where the heroes start suiting up and they are like sticking knives and guns and bullets on like every part of their clothing? That is what happened downstairs about 6 hours ago. Then Cold said something about him and Mick going to make hell freeze over for the O'Donnelly family."

"They went after the O'Donnellys? Why?"

"Because no one goes after my family and gets away with it."

Cold was standing in the doorway, his gun held up and resting against his shoulder. Shawna stood up.

"That was quick."

"Lets just say the O'Donnellys was more than willing to comply with my demands once the situation was explained to them. I gave them a choice, Jackson or a new Ice Age. Any trouble here?"

"No. Roy just woke up a few minutes ago. Doesn't seem to have a fever. Shouldn't lose any function in the arm, long as he lets it heal correctly."

"Thank you for your help Shawna. Consider any and all debts repaid."

"How gracious." Shawna's tone was sarcastic, even Roy could pick up on it. She turned and looked at him. "I'll be back tomorrow to check your bandages. Try not to get shot while I'm gone there Raider." She gave him a smile. It was all a little bewildering considering Roy hadn't intended to wake up at all, let alone to ever see Shawna again. Still he should at least try to be polite to the person who sewed him back together.

Roy gave her a small wave, she smiled then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Roy found himself alone with Cold.

"Now then. What do you say you and I continue our conversation from the last night, shall we?"

Roy made a small gesture towards the empty chair near his bed. Cold seemed incredibly amused by this. There wasn't much that didn't seem to amuse the man.

"Now, just to be certain that I didn't just murder a man for no reason, you were implying that Alford Jackson attempted to pay you $5,000 to have you use your powers on my sister in some way, correct?"

"He wanted me to…persuade her to be with him." Roy hesitated for a moment. "What happened to your no killing rule?"

"That rules are malleable and subject to change according to the situation. I said no unnecessary killing. But if the situation becomes life or death, I expect you to be the one that lives through it. The rules are there, and I expect them to be followed, but I do not intend to let some nobody like Alford Jackson get away with attacking one of mine. The no killing rule doesn't apply to revenge scenarios."

"Besides, once I told the O'Donnelly's what Jackson had tried to do, they were more than willing to let me dispose of him in order to maintain our alliance."

Roy didn't want to know exactly how Snart had disposed of Jackson. He could only imagine it was a painful death. Roy got the distinct feeling he was only alive because Leonard Snart truly loved his sister. He didn't even want to consider what Snart would have done to him had Roy actually agreed to Jackson's request.

Cold leaned forward, invading Roy's personal space.

"I do have one question. Why didn't you take the money?"

Roy found he was glaring at Cold again. Not the best way to make a good impression on the other man. But Roy figured there wasn't much else he could screw up at this point.

"I'm a thief, not a monster."

Snart's smile wasn't quite so smug, for the first time, it almost seemed genuine. Snart leaned back in the chair.

"Get some rest Roy. You and I will discuss your potential future in the morning."

"Potential future?"

"Let's just say, I have a plan for how this city should be run. And I need people around me who I can trust to stay within certain guidelines. People who know where the line is. And who know the best way to stay within our chosen fields is to keep one foot on either side of it at all times."

"You…you want me to join your crew? Even though I…"

"Did the situation get a little out of control? Of course. But that's to be expected, I had already planned for what would happen should someone start shooting. Besides, it all worked out in the end. No need to rehash the mistakes. Just learn from them and move on to the next job. Next time though, take the money then come and tell me the situation. It will be easier for me to know who I should be shooting at if I have all the information before hand." Cold stood up and reached into his pocket. "Here."

Cold threw a wad of cash onto Roy's lap.

"Since there was no real score, your 5k was the only money to be made from the other night's festivities. That your cut, minus a few dollars for medical expenses."

Cold walked out of the room without a backward glance. Roy reached forward tentatively and touched the money. He had expected to be murdered, his body broken into pieces and thrown into the river. He certainly hadn't expected to get paid for botching such a simple job. He grabbed the bills with his good arm. There was probably a little over a thousand dollars. Most of the bills were clean, but the top one was covered in blood. Roy wondered if Snart had done that on purpose. He was far too tired to try and decipher what message the other criminal was trying to send. Roy wanted to put the money in his jacket, but it was slung over a chair in the corner. He hesitated for a moment, then just put the money on the night stand beside him. He got the feeling it would be safe there.

The money sat next to his shades. He wondered where they had come from, he couldn't remember if he had been wearing them when he was bleeding out in Snart's living room. Cold hadn't been wearing his goggles just now, and Shawna had looked him directly in the eyes. That meant something…maybe. It felt important. It was hard to think right now, hard to stay focused. Whatever drugs were in that IV, they were certainly doing their job. He wondered where Shawna got the drugs.

He would have to ask her if she really only had two semesters of nursing school. Why had she dropped out? How did Cold know how to get ahold of her, Roy still wasn't sure how the Rogues had found him. There were so many questions he should have asked. He would text Mardon tomorrow, see if Cold had offered him a spot on his team as well. It was all so…

Roy's eyes slid closed, he was asleep almost instantly.

* * *

"He blew the job. And you wasted your favor with the disappearing chick. I thought the plan was to use her for the job at the docks next month." Mick was glaring at Len over the dining room table. Several beers sat between them.

"Shawna. And it wasn't a waste." Cold had his gun out, checking to make sure no damage had been done during their unanticipated escape and subsequent trip to track down Mr. Jackson. "Besides, I get the feeling Shawna might be willing to help us out with that one regardless."

"I still don't like it."

"You got to set things on fire Mick, I don't know why you are so upset."

Mick growled at Len then stood up and stormed out of the room. Lisa slid into the chair that Mick had just vacated.

"I thought you said rule number one was to focus on the score."

"I did, but things change. The score will have to be second from now on."

Lisa frowned at Len. He hadn't looked up from his gun once since he had sat down after checking on Roy. Lisa ran her finger over one of the beers, then flicked a droplet of water at him. Len glanced up with an annoyed expression.

"What?"

"Why are you so insistent on bringing them into this."

"The Flash…"

"We have gone up against him, without any metas, several times and we have come out on top each time. They are too unpredictable."

"Because you and Mick are the paragons of predictability and composure."

"Don't be mean, Lenny."

"Because eventually our luck is going to run out sis or, more likely, the Flash will call in a few of his super friends and we will be out numbered and out powered. The metas don't want to go back to prison any more than we do. They are probably more motivated to stay out of those boxes at STAR labs than we are to go back to regular cells. If we work together, then we can guarantee that none of us will ever spend much time locked up."

"How do you figure that?"

"Think about it. Me and Mick will always be sent to Iron Heights, you will end up at that women's prison upstate, and the metas will be at STAR labs." Lisa smirked, catching her brother's line of reasoning.

"And since the security at STAR labs is basically non-existent, we could always get them out if they get taken. While their powers would easily overwhelm any opposition from the prison guards at Iron Heights."

"Exactly. As long as one of us gets away during a job, a prison break would be ensured." Len made a mental note to start drawing up plans. He would have to plan for each inevitability, ranging from if one person got arrested to if only one person escaped. And he would have to tailor each plan to the strengths of those left on the outside. He would start in the morning, after he got some much needed rest. "If we pull jobs together, there is no way the Flash will be able to catch all six of us."

"Six? Don't get me wrong Len, I'd be glad to have Shawna join. Gets a little lonely with only you boys for company. But I thought you said Mardon was too…oh how did you say it, tumultuous?"

"We need his power. He would be our heavy hitter. Besides if the man gets too out of control, Bivolo would be able to calm him down."

"We assume. We still haven't seen Bivolo use his powers to calm anyone. I thought you didn't like Bivolo. Said it would be too easy for him to turn his powers on us. Can't trust someone who can change your mind without you knowing it. And I know how proud of your mind you are."

"That was before his actions with Jackson."

"Making a grown man piss his pants and scream like a little girl in the middle of meeting, causing an entire mob family to start shooting, that's how he gained your trust? Sometimes I don't understand how your funny little mind works Lenny."

"He was handed a large sum of cash to do something that would have taken seconds. And we would never have known he did it until it was over and he was halfway across the state. He chose to use his power to protect his crew instead of take the easy money. And that, dear sister, is exactly what the Rogues need to keep working in this town."

"You know I never agreed to the whole 'Rogues' name."

"You just don't like it because Cisco didn't come up with it."

Lisa rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. If they had been younger, Len was certain she would have stuck her tongue out at him as well. Len smirked and went back to working on his gun. He would have to talk to Shawna tomorrow when she came by to check Roy's bandages. Len had surprised her by using his favor for her medical skills instead of her ability. She had seemed…amazed that he would cash in such a valuable asset to help save a meta he barely knew. She might be the most open to Len's proposal. Mardon would be the most difficult.

Len smiled, if he played his cards right, then the Rogues wouldn't just be able to continue working in Central City, they would run the whole damn town. Len didn't just see next month's job at the docks. He wasn't just planning for the museum job six months from now. He saw jobs years down the road. He saw a team of thieves that no one could touch. Not the cops, not the Flash, and not whatever other surprises might pop up along the way.

They could be unstoppable.

"Oh, by the way, since Roy is currently recovering in the bed I was sleeping in, you are going to have to sleep on the floor. I would tell you to sleep on the couch, but Mick might have set some of the legs on fire earlier and I'm not sure a fly could land on it without it falling apart." Lisa smirked, then stood up and walked towards Len's room. "And I had to use all the extra blankets to put out the fire. Good thing you have such a warm parka. Should keep you nice and cozy. Night, big brother."

Provided they didn't kill each other first.


	2. Chapter 2

Theoretically, every job couldn't end in disaster. Eventually, one of these things would go right. Just on pure statistics alone. Surely there was some sort of mathematical equation that could prove it. Snart would know. As long as he was still alive of course.

Roy tried to ignore that thought. Snart was bound to be alive. Man seemed to get out of every situation unscathed. Bastard would probably outlive them all.

Roy grunted as he pulled Mardon along the darkened alleyway. Dragging a semi-conscious meta human through the city as the military hunted them down, was not how tonight was supposed to go. As Mardon slipped, causing both of them to stumble, Roy came to two conclusions. One, they were definitely all getting arrested tonight. And two, he was terribly out of shape.

He hadn't been in a gym since high school, and even then he hadn't exactly participated. He was going to be an artist, why did he need to learn how to climb a rope? If he could go back in time and apologize to Coach McCoy, he would. He didn't realize the old man had been preparing Roy for a life of crime. He didn't doubt that after tonight, assuming they all survived, Snart would implement some sort of physical training regiment.

Roy shouldered his way through the closest door. The door resisted a bit, but finally it opened and he pulled Mardon inside. It was some sort of old office building. It didn't look like anyone had been there in awhile, there was an obvious layer of dust coating all the desks. The computers looked like they were from the 1980s. Hell he was pretty sure there was a laser disk player attached to that TV.

Roy dropped Mardon into the farthest corner, then hurried back to the door. He closed it, trying to be as quick and quiet as possible. There was a heavy looking desk nearby, it was possible he could drag it. Use it to barricade themselves in. Roy's arms shook at the thought of it. There was a dull pain in his left arm he was doing his best to ignore.

The desk would probably make a lot of noise when he moved it, that would be a greater risk really. No reason to gamble on being heard moving something that big and bulky. He doubted it would even slow down a group of trained soldiers. He waited by the door a few more minutes, listening for any sound. Waiting for the sure noise of men with guns coming to drag them both away.

A soft sound from the corner drew Roy's attention. Mardon had slumped over. Roy listened at the door for a few more minutes then walked over to him. The man's eyes were open, but Roy doubted Mardon was seeing anything. Whatever drugs were in the darts those soldiers had shot Mardon with, had knocked him for a loop. Mardon had been mumbling earlier, but now he was almost completely silent.

Roy slid down the wall and sat beside Mardon. He pulled the man up so they were shoulder to shoulder. Mardon's head rolled forward, his chin resting on his chest. Roy thought about trying to make the man more comfortable, but decided against it. This was mostly Mardon's fault. Let the man be uncomfortable.

Roy rubbed his eyes. This was supposed to be an easy job. A way for Snart to see how they all worked together. See if certain people could keep their egos in check when a score was on the line. Like they didn't all know exactly who Cold was referring to. It was just a test to see if Mardon would follow Cold's orders. If he could fall in line. The answer was apparently a resounding No.

Roy glared at Mardon, but the man remained oblivious. Roy's arm continued it's throbbing pulses of agony. This was all Mardon's damn fault.

Mardon was the most powerful out of the six of them, and he was very, very aware of. Had even compared himself to a god once. Roy had rolled his eyes at the time, but now he wished he had slapped the man. Maybe used his own powers on Mardon, to show him that he wasn't the only one who could do things others couldn't. That he wasn't the only one with power. The fact that Cold wasn't a meta, but still wanted to be in charge made the relationship between the two men very contentious. Even the planning stages had been a constant struggle.

"Don't see why you don't just let me blow the building down with a tornado. Wouldn't be hard to access the safe then."

"Because we don't need the contents of the safe being damaged. Not to mention the collateral damage. We…"

"Yea, yea. The Rogues don't kill. I got it." Mardon's sneer had been a clear indicator of what he thought about that particular rule. Cold had ignored it and continued on.

"Brute force is not always the answer. We start killing innocent civilians, or police officers, and the cops will shoot to kill. Or they will call in the military to handle us. Not to mention the Flash might not be so gentle the next time he whisks you off to that private prison of his."

Mardon had been unusually quiet after that comment. Roy was a little…glad to know he wasn't the only one affected by their time in the pipeline. The three of them, Mardon, Shawna, and himself, never really talked about the pipeline. But Roy had seen the way Shawna had reacted to being cooped up in a van, the way Mardon would get quiet whenever Cold brought it up. Roy was certain the only reason Mardon had agreed to join the Rogues was because of Cold's policy on prison breaks.

Roy had to admit it was a deciding factor for him as well.

At least twenty minutes had passed since Roy had pushed them into the old office. Still there was no sound, no flashing lights, no helicopters flying overhead. Roy pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. No messages from the others. He put it back. Snart had said no communication unless he instigated it. Roy could see himself texting Cold, and the noise from the text alert causing Cold to get captured. That was precisely his type of luck.

Mardon was sweating profusely next to him. How had the military developed something to counteract their powers so quickly? Maybe it wasn't a counter agent, maybe it was just a shit ton of tranquilizers. He supposed that would work on any of them, regardless of their powers. Roy had no idea what the drugs were doing to Mardon, but the guy was breathing, so that was just going to have to be good enough for now.

Roy's arm ached, it was getting difficult to ignore. He took off his jacket and inspected the bandage. It wasn't bleeding, so he was sure it was fine. Although he wasn't supposed to do any heavy lifting for awhile. Shawna's orders. Roy was supposed to stay in the van, Snart not wanting Roy to get too involved before his arm was completely healed. Stay in the van, watch the security feed, listen on the headset. There were only going to be three security guards, two office workers, and one custodian in the building. The plan was to get in, grab a flash drive out of a safe on the third floor, and get out. No causalities, no issues, no surprises. The security guards didn't even carry guns.

Lisa was in the van with him. She sat in the driver's seat, appearing just as calm and collected as her brother. Cold and Shawna had gone in first, with Shawna teleporting them in behind the security guards. Shawna had tased the guards, while Cold had quickly rounded up the remaining civilians. He locked them in a storage closet by freezing the door. Roy didn't know why he couldn't have just used a lock, but Cold really seemed to like to use his gun. Mardon and Mick had already reached the third floor by the time Shawna and Cold had finished.

Three minutes and 47 seconds. That's how long the job was supposed to take. No alarms had gone off, no one had a chance to make any calls for help. Roy had activated the cell scrambler himself. Mick radioed that they had the thumb drive and they made their way back to the lobby. Lisa started the van. Twenty seven more seconds and they would have been home free. Roy could see the four Rogues in the lobby on the security cameras. Everything was going according to Cold's plan.

Then the screens were blank.

"Lisa…."

He didn't get the chance to warn her that anything had gone wrong. That the cameras had gone out. Although the sudden smoke pouring out of the lobby and the sound of gunshots was probably warning enough. Lisa was out of the van and heading towards the building before Roy even had a chance to think. She was running very quickly. Roy hesitated. They were supposed to stay in the van damn it. Cold had been very clear. No matter what happened. Stay in the van. Lisa was the damn driver, she should be in the van.

Roy pulled open the side door of the van, just in time to see a dozen men in black military gear get thrown through the lobby window. One smacked into the side of the van, only a few inches from Roy.

The Rogues came stumbling out of the smoke. Mardon looked like he was gearing up for another attack, but Cold grabbed his arm. Roy couldn't make out what they were saying. It took him a minute to realize that must have meant that their ear pieces were down. Had the military knocked them out somehow? Shawna appeared beside the van, a bleeding Mick Rory slung half over her shoulder. Shawna looked like she would be crushed by the man's weight but somehow managed to keep standing.

"A little help, Roy!"

Oh, right.

Roy reached forward and pulled Mick into the van.

"What the hell happened?" Roy's eyes darted back to the other members of the team. They were still arguing.

"We need to get out of here now before…."

Roy looked back just in time to see Shawna start to fall over. He managed to grab her arm before her head hit the pavement. There was a small dart in the side of her neck. Shawna looked at Roy with wild eyes.

"That…that was weird….I don't…."

A helicopter appeared overhead. It's spotlight focused on the three Rogues still heading towards the van. Correction, two Rogues. The Snarts were running, but Mardon wasn't moving. He was standing directly in the chopper's spotlight.

"You think you can stop me? You think you can touch me?" The wind was swirling around Mardon, lightening flashed around the chopper causing it to bank hard to one side. Roy could hear Snart cussing as they made it to the van.

"What the hell Cold?"

"Unexpected visitors. Nothing too serious. Lisa, get Shawna and take her to the place we went that time." Roy looked between the siblings in confusion.

"Got it." Lisa grabbed Shawna, who was looking decidedly worse every second, and started running away from the van.

"Change of plans Roy, we need to split up. You and Mick are going to take the van back to the safe house. Keep Mick calm if you can, I'll…."

Roy was certain that Cold had not only a Plan B, but Plans C-Z mapped out in that head of his. Every eventuality covered. But Roy sincerely doubted that Snart had made a plan for suddenly finding themselves surrounded by military Humvees, while several helicopters circled above them. Snart smirked.

"Clever diversion."

Roy looked back towards Mardon, he was standing strangely. Like a drunk man trying to pretend he was sober. He must have been hit with the same thing Shawna got hit with. The helicopter was supposed to distract Mardon so he didn't see the men surrounding them from every side. Mardon fell to one knee. Their most powerful member was down.

"All right." Cold was calm as ever. An aspect of the man Roy found annoying and comforting in this situation. "New plan, this one is going to have to have a little more improvisation than I would normally like."

Cold put his hands up in the air. He made a motion for Roy to do the same. Roy stepped out of the van.

"Hands up Roy. We need everyone to stay calm, understand? We don't want anyone losing their cool and shooting us in a crossfire."

They were completely surrounded, men with their fingers on the triggers on every side. If Roy used rage or fear, it was highly likely the heavily armed men would just start shooting. And there was no way to control who the bullets would end up in. But he wasn't sure calm was the answer either. These were soldiers. They might even be mercenaries or one of those black op groups. Being calm might make it easier for the soldiers to just kill them.

Roy nodded at Cold's subtle order. He removed his shades and raised his hands in the air. Within seconds, there was a gun muzzle in his neck and his arms were forced behind him. Two men held his arms.

Roy and Cold were pushed over towards where Mardon was attempting to stand. A lightening bolt almost hit the downed man. Idiot was going to kill himself trying to use his powers, trying to fight his way out. Mick was dragged behind them, still unconscious. Cold opened his mouth, no doubt to make some quip about the unexpected company, but was interrupted.

"Gentleman. This is an unexpected surprise." The man who stepped forward was a General of some sort. Roy had never been particularly good at names so he doubted he would remember it. The man looked old, probably wasn't more than 50 or 60, but there was a tiredness to his eyes that aged him. The General turned towards a nearby soldier. "Where are the other two? No matter, we will get them before too long."

Roy looked at all the guns trained on the four of them. Cold seemed unimpressed, but Roy was a little nervous. He had never had so many weapons aimed at his head. Especially so many fully automatic guns. No one had come over to try and put a blindfold on him or shoot him with a dart. Either they didn't know how Roy's powers worked or…

"Mr. Bivolo, I would caution against using your rage inducing powers. My men have orders to shoot to kill if they see red in yours or anyone's eyes."

They thought it was only rage. Thought Roy could only make people angry. A good assumption considering he had never tried anything besides rage in public.

"Is this the part where you tell us what you want? Because we were kind of in the middle of something, and it's rather rude to interrupt people in the middle of a job." Cold's voice was calm, almost mocking in a way.

"Honestly Mr. Snart, we had no idea you would be here. We have been looking for Mr. Mardon since he crashed one of our airplanes and killed several of my men. We finally managed to figure out where he would be, so we closed in. We weren't aware you were all working together."

The plane Mardon had knocked out of the sky during their escape from the Flash and the pipeline? That's what this was about? Roy had almost completely forgotten about that, it was such an inconsequential thing. Of course people had died, but they were people who were going lock them up in another illegal prison. So screw them. Roy hadn't given them a second thought.

Apparently this General had. Cold looked curious.

"Interesting. You know I understand how ARGUS might want to bring in a dangerous meta-human. And considering Mardon's powers I would assume you would want to use him in some way. Not to mention the need for caution when capturing him. But this?" Cold gestured to the helicopters and heavily armed men surrounding them "This feels a bit personal General…Collins." Cold read the man's name on off his uniform. No doubt filing that information away until later when he could dig up everything he could find on the man who had surprised them so completely.

The General's smile slipped for a moment. His eyes turned to Mardon. Mark was on his knees, his eyes unfocused, his hands tied behind his back. He was helpless. General Collins pulled his gun and calmly pointed it at Mardon's head.

"My son was flying that plane."

The General was going to kill Mardon. Rage, fear, calm, none of those things would help them out of this situation. Roy looked at the four men behind the General. He would have to try something….different.

He caught the soldiers' eyes.

The soldiers burst out laughing. Uncontrollable, hysterical laughter. The General whipped his head around, and Cold took advantage, he slammed his body into the General. Knocking them both to the ground. Roy stood quickly, catching the eyes of the men behind him. Putting them under his power just as quickly. Roy grabbed a knife off of the belt of one of the men. The soldier didn't even notice. Most of them were laughing so hard they were on their hands and knees. Roy removed his bonds and quickly cut Mardon free as well.

Bullets started raining down around them. Damn, he couldn't get the people in the helicopter from here.

"Cold!"

"Get Mardon out of here. I'll get Mick. Get somewhere safe." Cold punched the General one more time, then grabbed Mick and pulled him up into a fireman's carry. Roy didn't have time to question where exactly somewhere safe would be. More bullets were pinging off of the vehicles around them, in a few moments they would hit their marks. Anywhere would be safer than here.

So he had pulled Mardon's arm over his shoulder and dragged the semi-conscious man down alleys, and behind buildings. He wasn't sure how long they ran. Roy was certain it couldn't have been very long, but he was woefully out of breath when they had finally stopped.

Which lead them to their current predicament. There was no way Roy was going to be able to carry a completely unconscious Mardon out of the building. Let alone be able to run if the military caught up with them.

Well, if the military caught up with Mardon.

It wasn't like the military was after him.

Roy looked at Mark. The man was completely out of it. He wouldn't know if Roy got up and just walked out the door. There was nothing stopping Roy from just leaving the asshole here to his fate.

Roy had never killed anyone, it wasn't like there was General with a personal vendetta against him. He could hardly be blamed for watching out for himself in a situation like this. No one would blame him…

Cold might.

Damn it. Cold would definitely blame him. Roy had listened to Cold's rules. Had agreed to them. Watching each other's backs was apparently rule number one.

Roy let out a long- suffering sigh.

"You're a real asshole, you know that Mardon?"

Mardon made no indication that he had heard Roy. Roy rubbed his eyes again. That much unfiltered happiness had made him a little nauseous. Unbridled joy must have felt great to the soldiers, but to him…it felt like eating too much candy. His throat felt weird, his head ached, and his eyes felt itchy. He would have to use that one as sparingly as possible.

He was just glad it had worked. Most of the men had been unable to hold on to their weapons they were laughing so hard. Roy supposed if this whole life of crime ever fell through he could make it as a stand up comedian.

Roy didn't know how much longer he should wait. He checked his phone again, still nothing. It had been almost an hour now. Roy looked at Mardon then pushed the man until he was lying down. Mardon didn't move, didn't react to Roy at all. But his damn eyes were still open. Roy reached over and closed them. It had been starting to freak him out.

Looked like they were going to be here awhile. At least until Mardon was able to walk. Roy leaned back against the wall. It was 12:37 now. Hopefully the drugs would wear off by morning, and they could make their way back to the safe house. Roy leaned his head against the wall. He really should try to stay awake the whole night. But the adrenaline had long since left his body. He would just close his eyes for a minute.

Roy was glad that Mardon was still out when he opened his eyes again. The sun was streaming in through a window above them. Probably not a great idea to fall asleep for several hours when you are being hunted. Roy poked Mardon, but he didn't respond. Still breathing though.

Roy pulled out his phone, there was a message from Snart. From two hours ago. Well that would be a little hard to explain if they asked why he didn't respond.

"Safe house compromised. Meet at secondary."

Roy sighed. The secondary meet up location was all the way across town. He was going to have to either steal a car or flag down a taxi. Roy didn't think he had any cash on him. No wait he had…no he spent that money on paint. He stood up, stealing a car it was then.

He nudged Mardon again with his foot. Still nothing.

Hopefully the man didn't wake up while Roy was out locating their ride. Roy found a piece of paper, and wrote a quick note.

"Went to get car, be right back. Stay here. Roy."

Roy put the slip of paper in Mardon's outstretched hand. That was going to have to be good enough. Roy carefully opened the door to the alleyway. He looked, but couldn't see any sign that anyone was watching. He slid out the door and closed it behind him. Now that he could finally get his bearings, he saw he was somewhere near the abandoned office complexes towards the west end of the city. Hopefully he would be able to find a car to steal around here.

Roy walked several blocks, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He didn't have his shades and the sun was unbearably bright. Especially for this early in the morning. Finally Roy spotted a truck, one that wasn't rusted out or missing a wheel. He watched the area for a few minutes, there didn't appear to be anyone around. He walked slowly towards the truck. He had picked up a brick a few blocks back. No subtlety here. He was just going to have to do this quickly.

Roy smashed the window and opened the door. He reached under the steering wheel and had just managed to find the wires when he heard someone yell behind him.

"Hey! That's my truck you dick!"

Roy turned quickly to see a rather large and tattooed man running towards him. Damn. Roy was not in the mood for this. His left arm was stiff and achy, and he just wanted to lie down in a warm bed somewhere.

Roy quickly used his powers to calm the man down, make him a little more…tranquil. The man's eyes flashed a light blue. He stopped running. Roy turned and hotwired the truck. The man was standing in the middle of the street. He looked only mildly confused.

"Where are you taking my truck?"

"I'll bring it back."

"Ok." The man waved, then turned and walked away.

Interesting. Roy would have to use that one more often. Calm almost to the point of nirvana. Nothing seemed to bother the man under Roy's influence. Who cares if someone is clearly stealing your truck, they said they would bring it back. All was ok in the universe. Maybe he could make it as a meditation instructor.

Roy drove the truck back towards the building he had left Mardon in. Roy hit the breaks when he saw the place. There was a storm cloud above it, lightening and thunder, torrential rain pouring down from above onto the building.

And only that building.

That idiot was going to get them both caught.

Roy jumped out of the car and sprinted to the building. His version of sprinting anyway, probably wasn't much more than a light jog to most people. He pushed the door open and ducked inside. He was completely soaked. He was going to punch Mardon in the face for that.

"What the hell Mardon?"

Roy expected Mardon to be at least sitting up, maybe standing in the middle of the room cussing at the world. But he wasn't, he was still lying on the ground. His eyes were still closed. But his breathing was heavy and rapid, his fingers were twitching on the ground.

The man had woken up, unable to move, unable to see where he was or who had him. He had reacted by trying to use his powers. Roy sighed and looked at the ceiling. He supposed he should just be thankful Mardon hadn't created a tornado in here and accidentally knocked an old printer on top of himself.

Accidentally crushed by office equipment would be an embarrassing way to go.

Roy walked over and kneeled down by Mardon. Roy's hand hovered over Mardon's shoulder. Roy wasn't particularly comfortable with physical contact with other people. He wasn't exactly sure what he should do here. He rubbed his eyes, then placed a hand on Mardon's arm.

"Mark. Calm down. Mark!"

Roy thought he heard the thunder taper off. The sun started shining back through the window. Roy pulled Mark up so that he was sitting again.

"Can you open your eyes?"

Mardon's eyelids fluttered but didn't open. Those must have been some powerful drugs. Probably had some type of paralyzing agent in them.

"All right. Well, we need to move. I have a truck outside, so if you could try to help me a little that would be spectacular. If not this is going to be very uncomfortable for both of us."

Mardon couldn't even open his eyes, Roy doubted he would be able to move his legs. Still, they had been here for too long. Roy pulled Mardon up and half carried, half dragged the man to the truck. Roy definitely needed to get some more exercise in if carrying these people around was going to be a regular part of the job.

Roy buckled Mardon into the seat, then quickly drove out of the alleyway. The ride to second safe house was silent. Every now and then Mardon would twitch or his fingers would clench. Roy thought he had heard the man mumble something, but decided it wasn't worth the effort to try and figure out what he might have said.

After 45 arduous minutes, Roy pulled the truck into the driveway of a recently condemned house. Roy had never been here before, but Cold had made them memorize the address of two back up safe houses. Roy tried to see if there was any movement. Any sign that the others were here, or if the house was being watched. He waited ten minutes, then decided they would have to risk it.

Mardon was almost able to carry some of his own weight, it made the trek to the front door an awkward shuffle. Roy opened the door, and pulled Mardon down the long hallway to where he thought he saw light. He was almost to the entrance way of a room when a gun was suddenly pointed in his face.

"Roy?"

Lisa's hand didn't waiver, she kept the gun on them for a second longer than Roy would have liked. Her menace was undercut a bit by the fact that she appeared to have a lollipop in her mouth.

"Obviously. A little help?"

Lisa lowered the gun, and put an arm under Mardon. They carried him into the living room. Shawna was already lying on the couch so they dropped Mardon into a recliner. Roy's entire left arm felt like it was on fire. Funny how he hadn't noticed that until just now.

Lisa was looking at him strangely.

"You hurt?"

"Just my arm acting up." Roy rubbed the area near his wound. It was really starting to make itself known. Being somewhere safe must have triggered his body's pain receptors, telling them it was ok to cause him agony now.

"There are some pain pills in one of these kitchen cabinets. I'll grab them and you can explain to me what the hell that was all about."

Right. Lisa had left before General…Collins showed up. She didn't know about the man's vendetta. Roy followed Lisa into the small kitchen separated from the living room by where Roy assumed the carpet used to stop. If there had still been carpet. Roy stood on one side of the kitchen island that separated the living room from the kitchen. Lisa rummaged around in the cabinets, then she handed him a few pills and a glass of water. Roy took both greedily. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until the water in the glass was gone. Lisa smirked at him, then refilled the glass in the sink.

"So, the military doesn't usually concern itself with tiny little things like theft. I'm guessing this has something to do with you boys."

Roy wondered how much he should tell her. How would she react? The woman was…unpredictable at best.

"Are Cold and Mick here?"

Lisa's eyes narrowed.

"Nope." It was said casually but there was an undercurrent of steel in her voice. She wanted answers.

Roy glanced back towards the other metas. Roy knew Mark was awake, he had to assume Shawna was too. He wondered if Lisa knew that. Roy lowered his voice any way.

"Apparently, some General is upset that Mardon killed his son. The plane crash the night you and Cold released us from that truck? His kid was flying it. This…General Collins, I think it was, has been hunting Mardon ever since that night. Was planning on executing Mardon before we escaped."

"And the drugs, why are they both still unconscious?"

"No idea, Mardon was awake earlier. Might still be. He couldn't lift his eyelids."

"Were you followed?"

"I don't think so, but we had no idea the military was there until they came crashing in. Have you heard from Cold since this morning?"

"Just the text saying to not go home. I'm sure Lenny is sitting somewhere plotting out how he is going to take on the entire military. He has a bit of an ego and he hates it when one of his plans is interrupted." Lisa smirked. Roy attempted a smile but wasn't sure he quite managed it.

"Well, since we can't do much until the whole gang shows up, why don't you go take a shower. No offence sweetheart, but you smell like you've been carrying a pile of trash around all night." Lisa shot a look at Mardon.

Roy was certain he did smell. Roy followed Lisa's gaze toward Mardon and Shawna. Roy didn't know Lisa all that well. And only spoken to her once or twice before. Would she stick to her brother's rules in his absence? She barely followed them when Cold was around. What if she decided the best way to get rid of a military tail was to give up Mardon. Maybe she decided to cut her loses and throw out Shawna and him as well.

Lisa hadn't been too excited when Cold had decided to add the metas to the team. And she and Mardon didn't seem to get along. Something in their personalities just seemed to clash.

Roy was trying to think up a good lie, a reason that he didn't need to take a shower. Why he didn't need to leave his fellow metas alone.

"I…is there anything to eat?"

Lisa was looking at him with a curious expression. It was the way a cat might look at a bird that flew right into its claws.

"I can make some eggs while you are in the shower. Go on Roy. Food will be ready when you get out." The cat was still going to rip the bird apart, but it wanted to play a little with it first.

"I…um…don't like eggs."

"Oh for…Roy, honey. Look at me." Roy looked Lisa in the eyes. It hadn't occurred to him that he could just use his powers to keep her calm and sedated until he got out of the shower. It was instinct to use his powers to get himself out of a situation. Clearly it was the same way for Mardon. And Shawna could disappear at the drop of a hat. But for some reason that instinct abandoned him in the presence of the Rogues. He assumed it was because he knew what Cold would do to him if he used his powers on any of the others.

"I'm not going to throw your friends to the military the second you leave the room. First of all, I wouldn't even know how to get in touch with this General. And secondly, I'm not about to call them down on a place my brother is going to be, now am I? Really Roy, you have nothing to worry about. It is adorable how terrible of a liar you are, by the way." Lisa looked like she wanted to pinch his cheeks. Roy had never been called adorable before.

And Mark and Shawna were hardly his friends. More…work acquaintances.

Roy took a step back from the island that separated them.

"I'll just…"

"Shower's two doors down on you left. There might be an old t-shirt or two in one of the bedrooms. I'll check and see."

Roy was definitely going to lock the door to the bathroom. Lisa seemed like the type to just barge in.

Roy turned and headed out of the room, he might have paused briefly to make sure that Mark and Shawna were both breathing. But that was more out of professional courtesy than friendship. Roy had spent the last 12 hours keeping Mark alive, he didn't think it would be right for the man to die on him after all that effort.

He wasn't sure he had the energy to stand in the shower for very long. Still, he could give it a try. The water was cold. He didn't know why he thought there would be warm water. He wondered if Cold deliberately kept the water temperature low, Roy would have to talk to him about his commitment to his arctic theme.

Roy didn't know how long he stood in the shower, how long he just let the water run over him. He tried not to think about what had happened tonight. Tried not to think about the fact that this General Collins would definitely come after them again. And next time, he wouldn't be so easily surprised.

But now…

Now they knew this enemy was out there. That had to be an advantage for them. He was certain Cold would find a way to turn this whole thing around. Certain the Rogues would be better prepared for the next fight. They would have to work together, but they might be able to pull it off.

Hell, they might even get through a job without serious injury.

Roy snorted then turned off the water.

He must really be exhausted to think something as ridiculous as that.

* * *

The place they had gone that time was an old candy store on 8th Avenue, McLeery's Confectionary. Old Man McLeery had been old and senile when they were kids. How the old bat was still alive was a mystery. How he still managed to run a candy store was an even greater one. Hell, the place was only open three days a week. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. And only from 10 am to 4 pm.

Which meant it was almost always empty. Making it an ideal place to hide out for a few hours. Who would look for a couple of international thieves in a candy store? Lisa had found the spare key and slipped in the back door, same as she had been doing since she was eight.

She had carried Shawna most of the way to the store. The other woman had gone down rather quickly. And hadn't responded to any of Lisa's gentle prodding. Those darts packed a hell of a punch.

Lisa had pulled the dart out of Shawna's neck and slipped it into her pocket during their escape. She had taken it out several times throughout the night to examine it. There appeared to be a little bit of the tranquilizer left in the dart.

Lisa knew a chemist that worked at MIT who might be able to help recreate this impressive concoction. Lenny didn't need to know. A girl had to have her secrets after all. Lisa smiled when she thought about all the uses she could find for such a thing. She wondered if Bobby could turn it into a lipstick or a perfume for her. Knock the boys off their feet.

More so than usual of course.

Lisa had spent her time waiting for Len to give the all clear by looking through all the candy. She had taken a few pieces for herself. Just a few, the old man's candy had never been very good. But it had been the easiest place for a couple of kids to steal from. McLeery never had a clue they were practicing their craft in his store.

Len must have thought the safe house was compromised for him to have her come here. It was just a matter of him deciding which was the best place to head next. A few hours later and a text from Len proved her right.

She pulled Shawna up and carried her to the corner outside. She managed to hail a cab. She kept up a litany of words to Shawna, scolding her for drinking too much, for dragging them out to a party in the middle of nowhere. For losing her car keys. The cabbie didn't give them a second thought. Just another couple of drunk idiots trying to get home.

Lisa dropped Shawna on the couch, then decided to take a shower. By the time she was done, it was just starting to be morning. Len would show last of course. He was probably somewhere nearby, waiting to see if anyone had followed Lisa, or if this safe house was compromised too. Lisa knew she was most likely bait in this situation, but that was all a part of the plan.

Len trusted Lisa to be able to get herself out of any situation.

And Lisa trusted Len to not get his stupid ass killed trying to be the smartest man in the room. And if he did get in trouble, well that's why she was around.

Really, her big brother wouldn't have survived all this time without her.

Of course, there was also Mick being injured to contend with. Hopefully he didn't have a concussion. Len might have spent the entire night trying to keep Mick from setting everything on fire in his confusion.

Lisa smirked. Served Len right. It was his plan that fell through. Let him deal with the consequences.

Lisa was just about to make something to eat when she heard someone open the door. She pulled her gun and waited around a corner.

Roy's face went from surprised to annoyed in a matter of seconds. For someone who could manipulate the emotions of others, he really didn't know how to keep his own in check. The boy was going to have to work on that.

It was cute how protective he was of his fellow freaks. Even if he wouldn't admit it. He might not even realize it. Lisa had only been to prison once, and Len had gotten her out rather quickly once he heard about it. Still, she had spent six months locked up. She understood how quickly you could bond with people trapped in the same circumstances as you. Even if they never talked about it, the three of them had a connection no one else shared. No one else could understand what they had gone through.

Except for Nimbus, but that guy was a creep. So he didn't count.

Len hadn't even considered adding him to the roster. Lisa had actually agreed with that decision. A pyromaniac, a man who could control the weather, and a couple of super powered low level thieves were one thing. But there was a line, even for them. Plus she sincerely doubted that Nimbus would have abided by the no kill policy.

Oh Lenny. He got the silliest ideas in his head sometimes.

Lisa could hear the shower running. She resisted the urge to barge in on the obviously exhausted man. The poor boy looked dead on his feet, not to mention the way he was holding his arm. It obviously hadn't healed enough to be dragging two hundred pounds of idiot around.

Lisa knew how Roy got that wound. She had never said anything to him about it, and he had never brought it up to her. It was just something he had done for the group. Although it had…endeared the man a little to her. She wasn't completely without gratitude. Even if she could have handled Jackson on her own. Roy had just been trying to help.

So, she did the incredibly kind thing of letting the man finish his shower in peace. Really, she was too good to these people some times.

The eggs were done, so she put some on a plate. Then went and found an extra shirt and put it outside the bathroom door. She walked back into the living room, then stopped beside Mardon.

The man's fingers were twitching and he appeared to be trying to move his legs. There was an unnatural breeze in the room.

"Easy there Tiger, you'll fall right out of that chair. Wouldn't want to you to be any more helpless than you are right now." Mardon looked like he was trying to frown at that comment. The breeze picked up, blowing miscellaneous papers around.

"Well, somebody's a little touchy about their pathetic state." Lisa leaned in close. Her face only inches from his. "Just to be clear, normally I like a man helpless beneath me. Unfortunately for you, I'm not in the mood." Lisa pressed her gun into Mardon's ribs.

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps the way the military men found you is because they were looking for unusual weather patterns, dips in barometric pressure, unusual temperature changes. That sort of thing."

The breeze died instantly.

"There you see." Lisa removed the gun. "Maybe you are more than just a pretty face." Lisa smirked. Then placed a quick kiss on Mardon's forehead. She kept her voice light and cheerful.

"Lenny has some ideas about our little team. Protect each other and all that. And I will follow my brother's rules. But just so we are clear, you are at the very bottom of my list of people I will fight to protect. You're lucky it was Roy with you tonight and not me, I might not have been so willing to drag your ass across the city. And if you continue to endanger the rest of the team with your stupidity, I will…well, I think you can guess exactly which part of you I will gild first." She patted the side of Mark's face. "Now, you just get some rest, wait for those nasty drugs to leave your system. Let Lisa take good care of you. You too Shawna, if you're conscious."

Lisa stood up and walked back towards the kitchen. She didn't normally cook, the eggs might have been a little runny. Oh well, they were lucky there was any food in the place at all. And there was an unnatural lack of alcohol in this place. Hardly what one would call a well-stocked safe house. She would have to bring up the abysmal state of their supplies with Len.

She started to make a grocery list of all the essentials they would need. Medical supplies, food, make up, alcohol. She underlined that last one. She would make the list, then Len could go do the shopping. He was the one with the clean slate, thanks to the Flash. Cops couldn't arrest a man for buying groceries.

The shower had stopped. Roy would be making a reappearance soon. She wondered if she could get the introverted man to remove his shirt so she could check his arm. She could make a little game of it. See how embarrassed Roy could get before he gave in.

He entered the room wearing a t-shirt. Damn. She could see the bandage on his arm from here. There was no way he would remove his shirt. She would have to find another way to entertain herself until the others decided to make an appearance.

"What?"

Lisa realized she must have been pouting at Roy.

"Nothing. Just thinking about what we need." Her eyes narrowed. "Did you shower with that bandage on?" The thing was soaking wet.

"Um, yes?" Roy looked at his arm. He didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with it. Had the boy never taken a first aid class? Or seen any of the thousand medical shows on television? She had a vague recollection of the man saying he didn't own a TV.

Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Don't move."

Lisa walked into the other room then returned with a new roll of clean, dry bandages.

"Sit."

Roy sat down on one of the barstools, Lisa sat on another then scooted her chair slightly closer than was necessary. Ok, a lot closer than was necessary. Roy instinctually leaned away. He really did not like people in his personal space. Lisa tried not to smile at his discomfort.

Lisa removed the wet bandage, then began to clean and re-wrap his arm.

Honestly, were all men this dumb? What was she thinking, of course they were. She had done a pretty good job at keeping Len alive, and later she had added Mick to her list as well. Now she was going to have four idiots to keep an eye on.

Maybe Shawna could take a little bit of the load. She would have to talk to the other woman about it later. They could work up a schedule on who's week it was to keep these idiots alive.

Roy hissed when Lisa pulled the bandage tight.

"Relax Roy. Some people would enjoy me…" She deliberately used her teeth to rip the tape that would hold the bandage in place. "…causing them a little pain."

Roy rolled his eyes, but refused to look at her directly.

Lisa admired her handiwork.

Not bad. Shawna could double-check it later, if she ever woke up.

Lisa smirked. She had made breakfast and tended to the wounded. She was a regular Susie Homemaker. Something she had never had any intention of becoming. The things she did for these people. They would all be dead and starving without her. Probably lying in ditches somewhere.

Clearly, the Rogues would be lost without her.

* * *

A/N: I have the idea for one or two more chapters like this, mostly from Roy's point of view. Hope you enjoy the story so far.


	3. Chapter 3

There was someone knocking at his door. Roy blearily tried to open his eyes and read the clock by the bed. Who was knocking at…2:43 am? Roy groaned and rolled over. If it had been the cops they would have knocked down the door by now. And it wasn't like the Flash was going to knock first. Probably grab Roy and throw him in the pipeline before Roy was even awake.

There was only one person who knew where he lived.

Roy sighed, he would have preferred the cops. A drunk Mark Mardon was not something Roy felt like dealing with right now. Especially if he was in one of his darker moods. The knocking stopped. It was probably too optimistic to think the man had just left.

Roy heard someone open his fridge.

Damn it, if that asshole had broken his door getting in…

Roy resigned himself to his fate and pulled himself out of bed. Hopefully the man would just pass out on the couch and be done with it. Roy walked towards the source of the noise.

"Is this going to be a regular occurrence? Should I even bother with locks or…" Roy paused when he realized it wasn't Mark raiding his fridge. Shawna was standing in his kitchen. She…she was drinking his juice. Out of the carton.

"You're drinking my juice."

Which was hardly Roy's biggest concern at the moment. He probably should have started with a question. Something along the lines of how the hell did you get in here? Or, how the hell do you know where I live?

"Roy!" She seemed ridiculously happy to see him. Roy frowned. She was sloshing the juice everywhere. He was not looking forward to sticky floors.

She swayed precariously from side to side. She was clearly drunk.

"Roy, you need to get some more food man. How do you live?"

"How did you get in here?"

"I..peeked through the peek hole and…peek-a-boo!" She started giggling. Roy tried to decipher her meaning. She looked through the crack at the bottom of his door and then teleported inside. That didn't seem particularly safe, considering her current state.

"Are you sure you should drink and teleport?"

Shawna ignored him and walked closer. It was more of a graceful stumble really.

"Are those your paintings, can I….?" Roy grabbed Shawna's arm to stop her forward momentum. She was swaying far too much, and she was still carrying the juice. There was no way he was letting her near his paints.

"How do you know where I live?"

"Wiz! Told me all about it at the bar. Tell him Wiz, we…" Shawna looked around, seemingly confused that Mardon wasn't right behind her. She frowned.

"Did he leave? Why would he leave? Why would…." Roy sighed at her confusion.

"Did you teleport here?"

"More like hopscotches. So much faster than walking"

"Then it was probably you that left him behind."

It was like flipping a switch. One moment she was confused, the next she looked crestfallen. She…oh god she looked like she might cry. How terrible of a person was he that his first thought was to kick her out before she started crying?

"I…shouldn't have. Why would I? Not after…It's against the rules Roy!" Shawna grabbed a fistful of Roy's shirt. "I'll go back. I'll get him."

Roy held on to Shawna's arm, he couldn't very well let her run off into the night searching for Mardon. Hopefully she wouldn't just teleport them both out of his fifth floor window.

"I'm sure he will be here soon. I'll text him. See where he is." Shawna didn't look like she was going to attempt to teleport, so Roy let go of her arm.

"Sorry. Tell him I'm sorry. I wouldn't. Right? You know that right?" The alcohol was making her switch emotions so quickly it was hard even for him to keep up. Gone was the sadness, replaced now with such a solemn and serious tone to her voice.

"It's just so new. You know? And I still can't know, you know? You know, right Roy?" Roy was too tired to try and decipher what she was talking about.

"Sure."

Roy guided Shawna towards the old futon that sat against the far wall. He removed the miscellaneous brushes and rags he had stacked up on it. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in the loft, besides his bed and the bar stools at his kitchen counter. His paintings and supplies simply took up too much space to allow for anything else. Shawna sat down on the futon, and carefully put the jug of juice on the ground.

"What did Mark say?" Roy hadn't even gotten near his phone yet.

"He said it was fine. That he was on his way here now." Roy sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. Especially if he was as drunk as Shawna was.

"Good." She laid down on the futon, curling up onto her side. She looked around the room, seemingly confused. "Where's your TV?"

"I don't have one." Shawna closed her eyes at his response. She seemed to come to a decision though, as her face seemed very determined.

"I'll get you one."

"I don't…"She was asleep before Roy could explain that he didn't have one by choice. Roy sighed. So apparently his apartment was the destination of choice for drunk Rogues. First Mark, now Shawna. God help him if Mick ever showed up at his door drunk. He would probably set the door on fire to get in. Roy was going to have to talk to Mardon about who he gave Roy's address to. He bent down and picked up the juice and started back for the fridge.

He didn't get more than a few steps when there was another knock at the door. Damn. Mark must have been right behind her. He knew the Rogues had gone out to celebrate their recent successful heist. Roy had declined the invite. He had been inspired during the job and had wanted to get the idea on canvas before it left him. He had painted for hours. He had only gone to bed and hour before Shawna had shown up.

Roy went to the door and opened it. He was surprised to see not only Mark, but Lisa and Mick as well. Cold was nowhere to be seen, but at this point he had to assume the man was nearby. The others didn't seem to be nearly as drunk as Shawna. Maybe they were just hiding it better.

"Nice PJs Roy." Lisa smirked then let herself in. Roy looked down, he was just wearing a t-shirt and gray pajama pants. At least he thought the pants were gray, they could have been neon pink for all he knew. Both were splattered with paint. Mick brushed past, grabbing the juice out of Roy's hand as he did.

"By all means. Help yourselves." Roy's sarcasm was apparently lost on the Rogues as Lisa was already rummaging through his cabinets. Mick gulped the juice down quickly. Roy shot a glare at Mark. The man had the decency to look slightly abashed.

"All right. So I might have mentioned you lived nearby. Before we could stop her, Shawna had disappeared." Mark glanced at the woman passed out on the futon. She hadn't stirred since they arrived. And they weren't exactly being quiet.

"Don't know what her deal was. She wouldn't stop drinking. Looked like she was in mourning instead of celebrating the job."

"She was being a bit of a downer. Is this really all the food you have? You know we just got paid right?" Roy opened his mouth to reply to Lisa when Mick interjected.

"Where's the TV?"

Lisa smirked.

"Roy doesn't own a TV."

Mick looked personally offended.

"What's wrong with you?"

Roy glared at Mardon again. This time, the man just smiled.

"Old Roy here's too good for a TV. Far too cultured."

Roy rolled his eyes. He was completely done with this impromptu visit.

"Was there something you all wanted specifically? Or is this some sort of demented team building exercise?"

Lisa motioned towards Shawna.

"Just looking for our lost lamb. Wanted to make sure she hadn't apparated into a wall or something."

Mardon whipped his head around to look at Lisa.

"Did you just make a Harry Potter reference? Didn't realize you were a nerd under all that make up."

"Did you just get a Harry Potter reference? Doesn't that make you just as big of a nerd?"

"There wasn't a lot of reading material choices when we were locked up. That Cisco kid would only give us…" Roy had begun to learn to tune out Mark and Lisa's bickering. Although there didn't appear to be much venom behind their words. Which was a bit of a switch for Lisa and Mark. Maybe the secret to the Rogues longevity was for everyone to be slightly buzzed all the time.

"How much?"

Roy had been focused on Lisa and Mark, he hadn't even noticed Mick had moved to the other side of the room.

"What?" Roy turned to look at Mick. The man was standing near one of Roy's paintings. It was the one he had been working on all day.

"How much you want for it?" Roy waited for Mick to finish the sentence with a negative comment about art. Mick had never tried to hide his disdain for the craft. Or artists. There was a museum job planned in three months, Mick had said they should just set the whole place on fire. The world would be better off without so much fancy bullshit. That you can find good artwork in the clearance bin of Goodwill.

Roy had never been so close to hitting a man as he had in that moment.

But no derogatory comment was made, Mick just continued to stare at the painting. Mark and Lisa had stopped arguing and were now looking curiously at the two of them.

Roy narrowed his eyes. Searching for any sign that Mick was setting him up for a joke. Pretending to be interested just so he could make fun of Roy later. Lisa and Mark walked around to where Mick was standing. Both wanting to see what had so enthralled the pyromaniac. Mark let out a low whistle.

"Is that the job from this morning?"

Roy nodded, still unsure of their motives.

"You did this in a day?" It didn't sound like Lisa was mocking him. Her voice almost sounded impressed. But that wasn't possible, this was all a set up for something.

"It's not finished, I still need to…"

"It's perfect." Roy had to disagree with Mick on that. There were a hundred details he needed to finish. The painting was a little more…abstract than his usual work. The lines not nearly as sharp, the shading wasn't clean enough.

It had been their third successful job in a row. Roy was beginning to think maybe they weren't cursed, maybe their group could function as a team. There had been a few minor hiccups along the way, but nothing they couldn't handle. Hell, the only injury they incurred on the second job was when one of the guards tried to pepper spray Mardon, and his reactionary gust of wind had blown some into Shawna's eyes. She had only been blinded for a few moments. And everyone had walked away. Not a single serious wound in months.

Roy had to admit, when Cold's plans worked, they worked perfectly.

This…yesterday morning's job, was a simple warehouse raid. The man who owned the building, Rickard Jones, was a known drug runner. Cold had each of them spend a few days watching the warehouse. Since they had six people in their crew, they were able to stake out the target without being detected. After a few weeks, they had all the schedules of all the men who worked for Jones down. Cold even had them follow the men home, just to see how long it would take for backup to arrive should any of the guards be able to call for help.

Roy wasn't familiar with the technology that ran the warehouse's alarm systems. All he knew was that it was next generation type security. The guards had sensors they wore on their wrists, if any of their heartbeats went below their regular heart rate, the alarm would sound. The guards were constantly monitored by gps trackers. If they were out of position for too long, the alarm would sound. If the doors opened, prior to when they were scheduled to, the alarm would sound. The alarm then triggered the flood lights, which would also trigger the warehouse to go into lockdown mode. No one would be able to get in or out. The only way to turn off the alarm system was with a manual lever, powered by a separate generator, hidden inside a steel vault. They hadn't been able to even get close enough to hack into the system to see what they were dealing with once they got inside. Not that any of them were accomplished hackers.

Cold had to spend an extra week finding someone who could crack the system for them. Then one day he showed up at the safe house with a flash drive. Said it contained a code that would take down the system. Pause everything for 47 seconds. Long enough for them to get in and shut it down completely once they were inside. Cold still hadn't revealed who had figured out such a complicated system.

"A new friend, one who shares our common speedy foe. One who might be persuaded to help us out more often, should we play our cards right."

"You seriously want to add another member to our crew? Three metas and three international thieves not enough?" Mark wasn't particularly excited about the idea of splitting their earnings any farther. Roy wasn't thrilled about it either, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"Three metas who were all low level bank robbers before their powers. Mostly smash and grab jobs. Tactics, which haven't changed since their miraculous upgrades. Mick only likes computers if he can set them on fire. And while Lisa and I have more experience in high-class establishments such as museums and private collections, even things like this are a bit beyond us. They are using the same types of encryptions that the military uses. If we want the bigger scores, if we want to be able to play on a larger stage, we are going to need someone who can break down those walls on the spot."

"I still don't like it. How do we know we can even trust that this person's…code or whatever will take down the security? Could be a trap."

"He seemed very confident in his abilities. And I was sure to impress upon him the consequences should the code fail. Apparently he was insulted by that, the boy seems to think of himself as some kind of genius. Incapable of such 'pedestrian' mistakes."

Watching all of the security fall within seconds of Cold uploading the code, Roy was inclined to agree with the mystery potential member of the team. They only had 47 seconds to take out the guards, get inside the building and then manually shut down the alarm system. It took them 42.

The mercenaries who guarded the place were too busy being in awe of Mardon bringing lightening down around them that they forgot to actually fire their weapons. By they time they realized they should fight back, Roy had them all in a state of absolute terror. Most of them fled for their lives. Some just laid down and curled into a ball. One man stood stock still and didn't move for the rest of the night.

While they were taking care of the guards, Mick was burning a hole in the solid steel door that protected the manual shut down. It would have taken far too long to for a normal crew to burn a hole large enough for a person to fit through. But all they needed was a super powered flame gun, a few seconds, and a hole just large enough for a person to look through. Cold and Lisa were at the back of the building, keeping an eye out for any hidden surprises or unforeseeable problems.

Shawna got into the room, and shut down the system. The code, apparently even when it stopped working after 47 seconds, would loop the feed from a few minutes prior to the heist. So anyone from outside the facility who tried to look in would think that everything was still working normally.

There was a reason the Rogues had waited almost two months before they pulled this job. Less than 15 hours ago, Rickard Jones had had a meeting with a couple of arms dealers from Russia. An even trade, money and guns for drugs. What the Russians were unaware of was that Rickard was known to double cross those he traded with. As soon as he had seen the guns and the money, he had killed the Russians and taken it all. The warehouse was packed full with weapons, cash, and drugs. The Rogues were going to raid a drug runner's warehouse, and they didn't even want the drugs.

Cold had added a no drugs rule to his ever-expanding list. It wasn't just a rule for them to follow personally, he meant professionally as well. They were not to take nor sell drugs of any kind. Cold thought taking drugs made you sloppy, and selling drugs was a quick way to get a federal task force on your ass. They wanted to play in the major leagues, but they didn't want to become the Yankees. Otherwise, everyone would always be gunning for them. Roy didn't know much about the sport metaphor but everyone else seemed to get the reference. So he just went with it and nodded.

So there was approximately five million in untraceable cash, as well as several crates full of weapons, ranging from hand guns to rocket launchers. And the almost half a ton of cocaine. Rickard was so confident in his security, so sure that no one would be stupid enough to steal from him, that it was all just sitting in the middle of the room. There was still some blood on the crates from where he had double-crossed the Russians.

"All right, Lisa, Shawna go get the vans. Roy, go open the main doors so they can drive in. Mick, Mark and I will see what's in each of these containers and decide what we can sell. We aren't going to take a bunch of hand grades with us if we can't move them quickly."

"Aww, come on Lenny. A girl can never have too many hand grenades, how else is she supposed to keep a date from getting too boring."

Shawna teleported them back to the vans while Roy opened the doors. It didn't take long for them to load all the guns and cash. Soon all that was left was the cocaine.

Mardon gestured towards the drugs.

"Want me to blow it all way in a hurricane or something? I assume you want to send this guy a message."

"I do want to send him a message. I want Rickard to know that this is our town now. And backstabbing potential customers is bad for business. You blow it all away and he will just think we took it with us. He might even get the thought in his head that we would be willing to do business with him some day. That we are just like him."

There was a disdain in Cold's voice that Roy couldn't quite understand. Roy had tried weed and some hallucinogens in school, but had never gone any farther than that. He simply hadn't had the money to afford cocaine. Or any of the higher class drugs. His experiences usually stemmed from other classmates sharing their drugs with him. He had wanted to try LSD at one point but had never gotten the chance. He wondered if he would have hallucinated in color.

Whatever Cold's issues with drugs, it was a lot more personal than just hating this particular dick-ish drug runner. Roy doubted he would ever know the reason behind it. Most of what he knew about Cold, he had either read in a newspaper or Lisa had told him. And Lisa had a tendency to exaggerate the truth. There might not be a single thing Roy knew about Cold's past that was actually true.

"Mick. Light it up."

Almost half a ton of cocaine and Mick set it on fire without hesitation. Whether that was due to Cold's order or because he simply wanted to watch it burn…well Roy could guess what the man's motivation had been.

Roy had always had a healthy respect for fire. Knew the dangers of it, but like most people he didn't think about it that often. He had watched campfires as a kid, when his father had forced him to go camping. Fire was one thing that wasn't diminished in Roy's eyes from a lack of color. It still breathed on its own, it still moved in unpredictable ways. It would still consume you whole if you didn't watch it closely. It had been years since Roy had really watched a fire. Since he had really seen it up close like this.

Mick would probably still be standing there if Cold hadn't dragged him away. The size of the fire was sure to attract unwanted attention. Namely from the Flash. So they had headed to the vans and driven away. Roy had watched the fire in the rearview mirror. It was the first time Roy had felt any kind of connection to Mick Rory. The fire…it was beautiful in a way.

It had inspired him. He couldn't wait for the job to be over. It had taken several hours for them to get back to the safe house and store the guns and the cash. Cold was going to count it all and then he would divide it up between them. Roy had barely heard a word he had said. Something like five hundred thousand a piece. Roy was certain he would be more excited about the money once he had the chance to get his vision out onto canvas. He couldn't think about anything else. It would consume him until he finished it.

Now Mick was staring at Roy's painting the same way he had looked at the fire. There was a reverence in Mick's gaze that Roy found a bit unnerving. He wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at one of his paintings that way before. He still couldn't understand what Mick was playing at. The man couldn't possibly understand the meaning of it.

It was an abstract interpretation of a fire burning through a mountain of drugs while the wind pulled it up into the sky, coating the city behind in a layer of ash. The drugs looked like they had been scarred by the fire, the city behind was nothing more than an empty shell. Hollowed out and broken. As if it were the city that would fall away, and the drugs that would heal and continue on.

Roy figured he had one more card to play. One more way to get Mick to stop this charade.

"It's in black and white." At least he hoped it was. Several of his classmates in college had once replaced all his black, white, and gray paints with horribly clashing colors. Blue and orange, bright green and red. What he thought had been a perfectly crisp and clean portrait had been, as one teacher described it, "an assault on the sensibilities of anyone who tried to gaze upon it."

Others hadn't been as kind.

Roy made sure he only bought paints that were clearly labeled with their colors after that. And he kept them locked up. To this day, he still had a twinge of unease whenever he picked up one of his paints and he couldn't see the label. He was certain he hadn't bought any colors, he had double checked them all.

"Don't matter."

"I thought…"

"Fire ain't the color. Fire is honesty. It's the truth it reveals when all is stripped away. Fire is….this." Mick pointed towards the painting. That might have been the most sentences Mick had ever directed at Roy. Usually it was just grunts and pointing.

Roy figured this had to be the weirdest prank he had ever been subjected to. Fine. If that's how Mick wanted to play, Roy could play along. Maybe that would actually get these bastards to leave.

"$25,000."

Mick didn't even look up from the painting. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of crumpled up dollar bills, and thrust them at Roy. Roy tentatively took the money. It…these were hundred dollar bills.

"It's all I got on me. Get you the rest when we get back to the safe house. That's the deposit."

Roy flipped through the money in his hands. There was a little over three thousand dollars. The first successful job they had pulled, they had each gotten a split of $15,000 a piece. It had been a simple job, all six of them didn't need to be there. Hell, one of them probably could have pulled it off. But the Rogues didn't pull solo jobs. They were a team now. The second job had been a little more complicated. Almost two months of planning, and it was over in less than ten minutes. That one had pulled almost $48,000 a piece.

Roy had spent a large sum of his money from the two jobs on new painting supplies, putting a down payment on an apartment, instead of squatting in the one across from the park, and filling it with necessities like a bed and a microwave. The futon he had found on the street for free. No reason to spend money if he didn't have to. He hadn't really asked the others what they had done with their money. He knew Mardon and Shawna had also gotten permanent places to live. He had no idea what the non-meta members of the Rogues used their money on. He assumed they spent a good amount of it keeping their guns in working order. Cold was always upgrading his, that couldn't have been cheap.

Apparently the rest of the money was spent on booze.

"You…you took three thousand dollars in cash with you to a bar?" Roy looked to Lisa and Mark for confirmation. Was this normal behavior, is this how thieves were supposed to blow through their winnings? Lisa and Mark looked at each other and smirked. Mick still hadn't moved his gaze.

"Took 10. Three's all I had left."

"You spent…you spent $7,000 on booze in one night? How is that even…?"

Lisa interjected before Roy could become even more confused.

"Well, to be fair Roy, Mick here picked up the tab for all of us. And we started drinking this afternoon, so it was more half a day than just a single night. Almost 14 hours now. Not to mention all the other expenses. Like food, and that pool table Mardon destroyed."

"That was an accident."

"Sure it was honey." Lisa patted Mardon's cheek, then stage whispered to Roy, "Poor boy doesn't like to lose." She then smiled at Mardon's indignant sputtering and continued on. "We also bought several rounds for the other people at the bar. Most of us are wanted criminals after all, and our fellow ruffians are less likely to turn us in if we buy them all drinks. Big brother is still there, making peace with the locals."

"Not to mention, you drop that kind of money at a place, and the management tends to look the other way. I think we might have found a nice regular spot we can get a drink in peace. Well worth the cash we spent." Roy frowned at Mark's comment about a "regular spot". Of course their new favorite bar would be so close to Roy's apartment. He was going to have to set some boundaries with these people. None of them, not even Cold, seemed to understand the concept of personal space.

Mick was gently taking the painting down off of the easel. So. It hadn't been some kind of elaborate hoax. The man had actually liked it. Damn. Roy wondered if he could have gotten more money for it. Twenty-five thousand was easily the most money he had ever been paid for a single piece of artwork. Still, it never hurt to ask for more. Mick started to move with the painting in his hands and Roy took an involuntary step forward.

"It really isn't finished. The paint isn't fully dried yet and…"

"I'll be careful."

Mick was holding the painting with a delicateness that Roy didn't know the brutish man possessed. God he hoped Mick didn't hang it up at the safe house. Otherwise Roy would be tempted to pull it down and finish all the details that were glaring at him. Did they really not see how unfinished it was? How much there was still left to do?

"What about me Roy? You going to paint me a pretty picture? A girl could get jealous if she didn't get such a fine present." Lisa was batting her eyelashes. She started towards some of the paintings he had stacked against the wall. Roy stopped Lisa before she could get any closer and start rummaging through all his work.

"This isn't a gallery. And if it were, it would definitely be closed. Come back during normal business hours." Roy started to gently herd Lisa and Mark towards the door.

"Aw, but Roy. I do my best shopping after hours." Lisa was pouting.

Mick was already standing by the door. He nodded to Roy.

"Get you the rest tomorrow." And that was it. Hell it was probably the last time the two men would talk about art. Roy didn't know exactly what to say to the taciturn man. So Roy just nodded back.

And that was the end of his most profitable art sale.

Roy hadn't gotten his cut from Cold for the third job yet. But he found he was more excited about the $25k he would get from Mick than the close to $500k he would get for the robbery.

Lisa flipped her hair and huffed.

"Fine Roy. Be that way. But if you ever need more inspiration, I'm always available. You wouldn't be the first man to call me his muse." Roy wondered if he and Mark rolled their eyes in unison.

"I'm sure they have."

Mark smiled at Roy's deadpan tone.

"See you tomorrow Roy."

"Yes. Tomorrow, when you and I can discuss you giving my address out to everyone."

"Ah, come on. It's not everyone. Just the team."

"I don't know Mark, you were rather loud at the bar. I think everyone there heard you." Lisa loved to goad Mardon. She loved to do it to everyone actually.

"Well if any of the idiots are dumb enough to come here, you can just use your crazy eyes on them. Hell, you could probably sell a lot more paintings that way."

Roy didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the way Mardon said it. Maybe something in Mardon's tone sparked a memory. Maybe it was the fact that he could still hear the way his classmates would taunt him, would tell him that he could only sell art to the blind. Maybe it was the fact that he had gotten 4 hours of sleep in two days. But Roy was suddenly very, very angry with Mark.

The man was half standing in the open door. Mick and Lisa were already in the hallway.

"I don't need my powers to sell my paintings." There might have been more venom in his voice that was absolutely necessary.

"Oh come on Roy, don't be so…"

Roy really didn't care. He gave Mark a bit of a shove, then closed the door quickly. He locked it.

He heard Lisa through the door.

"Good job, dumbass."

Roy walked back towards his bedroom. Pausing only to make sure that Shawna was still breathing on the futon. Roy sighed, as quickly as it had come, the anger was gone. He was just so tired. Roy rubbed his eyes. He just needed to rest for awhile. Get things back under control. His emotions had been a little odd as of late. But he attributed it to the stress of the jobs, and the constant interactions with new people who insisted on barging into his home at ungodly hours.

Shawna mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over. He would deal with that in the morning. He just wanted to put this exhausting day behind him.

He woke up the next morning…technically afternoon. One twenty-three was the afternoon. He lay there for a moment. He didn't hear any noise from the living room. Roy took a quick shower, then got dressed. Shawna was exactly where he left her last night. Curled up in fetal position on his futon. He needed to head to the safe house and get his cut from the job. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone in his apartment.

He didn't like the idea of anyone being in the apartment when he wasn't there.

Roy stretched out his arm and poked her in the face. She made a half-hearted attempt to swat his hand away. She didn't even open her eyes. Roy sighed. He poked her again. This time she spoke.

"Jesus, Clay I'm up. I'm up, you don't…" It was almost comical the way she blinked her eyes at him. As though what she was seeing couldn't possibly be real, she had to still be in some kind of dream. "Roy?"

"It's 1:30. Figured you would want to get up. I was going to leave soon."

"Right. Leave. Leave here. Which is….where exactly?"

"My apartment."

"Oh. Right."

"You teleported here last night and fell asleep on my futon."

"I know where you live? Do you know where I live?"

"Mardon told you. And no."

"Oh. Um, ok. So I'll just…" She sat up and paused. She swallowed heavily several times.

"Please don't throw up on my floor."

"I'm not…I'm not." She might have been trying to convince herself, because she definitely wasn't convincing him.

She breathed heavily through her nose for a few seconds. Then rushed to the bathroom.

Roy immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Mardon.  
"What." It sounded like Roy had woken the man up.

Good.

"Shawna is throwing up in my bathroom."

"Sucks."

"Yes. Come get her."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because it's your fault she's here."

"Look man, I'm…"

"And because if you don't then every woman you ever hit on will feel nothing but disgust when they look at you."

"….you wouldn't."

"Every woman. Every single one. I can't use my powers on any of the Rogues, but Cold never said I couldn't affect those around us."

"You're a real bastard when you want to be Roy."

"See you in thirty then."

Roy hung up.

Who knew being a part of a crew of thieves would involve so much social interaction with them. It definitely wasn't what he had expected when he signed up a few months ago.

Every other job he had worked with other people had been one off gigs. They met, they did the job, they went their separate ways.

This was…

This was different.

Roy wasn't sure how he felt about it all yet. How it…

The sound of Shawna throwing up refocused his attention.

He sighed.

He was going to fix that crack in the door and buy new locks after this. Maybe that would keep them out.

He sincerely doubted it though.

* * *

Clay had once told her that she didn't handle alcohol well. She couldn't really remember getting too drunk before he had mentioned it. She had always been pretty busy with school, and then when she was with him they usually drank at home. There were only a few times they had gone out to bars, had really gotten wild. And even then it was Clay who tended to get out of control

But she had listened to him. Every time they would go out, Clay would tell her when she had had enough to drink. Usually it was by the third. Just when she was feeling buzzed and a little horny.

A couple days after she had been freed from the pipeline by Cold, she went to get drunk. Mainly she had gone to try and keep herself from going back to their old apartment. Seeing if Clay was still there. Seeing if he…

After three drinks at some piece of crap bar, she had stopped. She wanted to order another drink. She wanted to be more than some stupid girl who had let a man dictate her actions. A man who hadn't even loved her. She had argued with herself in that bar for almost an hour. Trying to ignore all the traitorous thoughts that kept coming into her mind.

"Clay wouldn't want you to have another drink."

"Clay knew what you could handle."

"You don't want Clay to think badly of you, what if he came in here?"

She had been so disgusted with herself that she had teleported out of the bar. Not giving a damn who saw her.

She had been locked up for months. She had plenty of time to get over that asshole. But her first thought when she had gotten out was to find him. To find something familiar. Something normal.

Why couldn't she just…not love him.

A couple weeks later she had joined up with the Rogues. That had served the dual purpose of keeping her mind off of Clay and getting her enough cash so that she didn't have to squat anymore.

And the money was legit. Not those small stupid jobs, like holding up gas stations, that Clay used to plan for them.

She could see why Cold was so insistent on having a team. It made sense for them to look out for each other. No one else knew what the Flash and his group of flunkies were capable of. And there was no way in hell she was ever ending up in one of those damn boxes again.

Not with the Rogues at her back. She trusted them to keep her out of there.

Apparently this also meant she was comfortable enough to get blackout drunk around them.

The others were celebrating. She had to celebrate too. This was their biggest score. Shawna had never seen so much money in her life as what had been stacked up in that warehouse. She had every reason to be happy.

Then she finished her third drink.

And she…she actually hesitated. She was mentally berating herself when another drink just appeared in front of her. Mick had ordered the next round without asking if anyone wanted more. Of course they wanted more. Why wouldn't they just keep drinking?

By the 6th drink, she had determined she was going to put that bastard behind her once and for all. All those years she wasted on him. All that damn time and effort. She was feeling strong. She was feeling like she didn't need anyone.

By the 9th drink, she had thought of everything she had given up for Clay. Nursing school being the primary one. She would probably be working in some hospital right now. She might not have ever been affected by the particle explosion. She could be living in a fancy house, with some rich husband doctor right now.

It had been her father's dying wish that she finish nursing school. That she become all the things he had always known she could be. God, she had been so lonely when her dad had died. So lost. He was the strongest man she had ever known, to see him just waste away…It had shaken her. Worse than she had realized at the time.

She had needed something to fill that void. That loneliness. And then Clay was there, pulling her into this exciting life. Keeping her occupied. Keeping her focused on the now, instead of on the past.

She had tarnished her last memory of her father. She had denied his last wish for her. She had broken her promise. She had become everything he had fought to keep her from becoming. Just another thief.

She might have become a little bit morose after that. Lisa definitely kept telling her she needed to lighten up. So Shawna kept drinking.

She stopped counting after 12. Or maybe she had tried to keep counting but kept forgetting what number she was on. It all got a little bit hazy. She had a vague recollection of Mardon cracking a pool table in half with a lightening bolt. The damn thing caught on fire. Probably would have burned the whole place down, if Cold hadn't put the fire out with his gun. Then…then she was moving? Maybe? She had to get somewhere?

The next thing she knew, Roy was poking her in the face. He had a bit of a disgruntled look. He was even less pleased when she ran to his bathroom to throw up.

She was just glad she had made it in time. She didn't know how long she laid curled around his toilet. It felt like a decade. At one point she heard running water then she felt a cool towel placed on the back of her neck.

It felt like heaven. She may have moaned. She hoped Roy was enough of a gentleman to never mention that to anyone. She turned to thank him but he wasn't there any more.

Roy didn't appear to be a very social kind of guy. He probably had some weird affection or emotional issues. If she had stayed in nursing school maybe she would have taken a psychology class. Could have understood him and the others better. Shawna snorted. Like she had any right to judge anyone on how they dealt with their shit.

Eventually she was able to stand without feeling nauseous. When she made it back to the living room, Roy was in the kitchen wiping something off the floor. He looked up when she entered.

"Mardon's going to come by and take you home."

She eased herself gently onto one of the bar stools then laid her head down on the cool counter top. Maybe she would just lie here forever. She could use the money from the last job to buy Roy's apartment from him. She never had to move again.

"Thanks." She was pretty sure she said that out lout. And didn't just mumble it quietly into her arms.

Roy didn't respond. She heard something slide across the table. She managed to crack an eyelid and saw a glass of water in front of her. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. She sipped some of the water, managing to not spill any on herself. A major accomplishment.

She looked around his apartment for the first time.

"I don't have a TV. Nor do I want one."

"Ok?" She hadn't noticed the lack of a TV. Weird he would bring it up. She was busy looking at the paintings.

"These all yours?"

"Yes."

There was a portrait in black and white that caught her attention. It was a woman, long flowing hair. She was sitting at a table, it looked like she was writing a list of some kind. Maybe groceries or something. Nothing important, just a simple task. There was something about the painting. It was so…normal. But it was one of the most elegant things she had ever seen. And there was this quality to it, this care taken to preserve this simple moment…

"Is that your mom?"

Roy seemed slightly startled by her question.

"I…how did you know that?"

"It just…I don't know. Looks like home."

Her dad used to sit at their kitchen table and do the bills. Once a month, there would be this huge stack and he would sit there with this determined look on his face. These stacks of paper were not going to defeat him. He was going to win the battle. And they would still have their apartment, and electricity, and water, and food when it was all over.

Sometimes he lost. Sometimes the vicious pieces of paper were too much. Sometimes there were things he couldn't overcome.

But Shawna didn't remember those times very well. She knew they happened, probably a lot more than she could recall. She always remembered his proud smile when he would win though. That was her clearest memory. The way his eyes would light up. How he would stand up, then immediately crouch down beside her. She always sat under the table when he went to war. His little battalion leader. She was there to watch out for any surprise attacks. She had taken that responsibility so seriously. He counted on her to help defeat their enemies.

He would get right next to her under the table, then whisper something about how they had plenty this month. Maybe even a little extra. Maybe he would get her something special next time he went to the store. Since she had helped him win. Since he couldn't do it without her.

It was never anything big. A piece of candy. Some new ribbons for her hair. But every time he brought her home a present, she knew that they were going to be ok. That for this month at least, everything was ok.

God she missed her dad.

She leaned her head back down on the table. Hoping Roy would think she just felt nauseous again. Hoping he hadn't seen the tears start to form in her eyes.

Maybe this was why Clay hadn't wanted her to drink. It made her think about the past. About what she had lost.

It was silent for a few moments. When Roy spoke his voice was…soft.

"I…I didn't really have any pictures of her. Not ones that…were really…her."

Shawna lifted her head. Fairly confident she had managed to keep her tear ducts in check.

"She's beautiful."

"I don't know why, but her making the grocery lists each week seemed to be the thing I remember most about her. She died…a long time ago."

Shawna just nodded. They hadn't been able to afford a camera growing up, she didn't have a picture of her dad sitting at the table. Didn't have a way to show the world the man her father had really been. Not the sick old man dying in a hospital bed. But the strong, proud warrior who had fought for her every single day.

"I…do commissions. If you would be interested."

Shawna's throat felt weird. But she knew it wasn't the nausea.

"That would be great."

Roy gave her a small smile and a nod.

The quiet moment the two were sharing was abruptly ended by a loud pounding at the door.

"That would be your ride."

Shawna stood up from the bar stool, only wavering slightly on her feet.

"Thanks for letting me crash on your couch."

"What are fellow thieves for?"

Roy opened the door. Mardon didn't look much better than she felt.

"Jesus what happened to you? Decide to just go all in on the hobo look you've been sporting since we met."

"Long night. Which didn't end after we left you here. Turns out Lisa had some cash on her. And Mick and Cold decided we had to spend every penny of it. You're going to pay for making me get up this early Roy."

"It's almost two in the afternoon." Roy didn't seem very apologetic.

Shawna had to agree with Mardon, it was way too early.

"Less chatter, more getting me somewhere I can sleep for the rest of my life. Later Roy."

Shawna left the apartment feeling slightly better. Not physically of course. Her body felt like it was planning on collapsing in on itself, and then exploding. She wasn't sure how she was even able to stand upright. Not to mention the pounding headache, and the unending nausea. If she made it back to her place without throwing up in Mardon's car she was going to consider that a win.

But somehow she just felt...better.


	4. Chapter 4

They were so screwed.

They had been on such a good streak lately. Six jobs and no issues. Six jobs, and six good payouts. But here they were again, getting their asses handed to them by some unforeseen foe. Although this time, there was only one guy kicking their asses.

One, ridiculously powered, meta-human guy. But still.

It was like the man had been genetically engineered to be able to fight them. No elements could hurt him, it was like everything they threw at him just slid off of his skin.

If you could call what coated his body skin. It looked like scales, scales made of rocks or…

"Roy, get down!"

Roy ducked just as a barrage of bullets embedded in the wood around him. The crate he ducked behind did little to protect him. Another round like that and he would be without cover. The crate would be splinters, and Roy would be shit out of luck. The others weren't faring much better.

Shawna had managed to get Lisa and Mick out of the line of fire, dropping them near the van. Cold and Mark were trying to keep the meta, who still hadn't spoken a word, from shooting. The meta's powers were defensive, so he was carrying a large amount of firepower.

Cold had managed to freeze several of the meta's guns, but he seemed to just keep pulling them out the crates and his vest.

His military-grade vest.

That damn General was probably behind this. This whole job at the docks must have been a step up.

Mark had struck the meta with lightening, tried sweeping him away with a gust of wind, had even thrown hail the size of basketballs at it. But every time, the meta would be un-phased, and would just keep firing.

Eventually, he got a lucky shot. Roy saw Cold's gun skitter across the ground. Their leader dropped to his knees, clutching his shoulder. Roy needed to act soon. Roy hadn't managed to do anything yet, the meta had been wearing shades when this all started. But a lucky hit from Mick's fist a few minutes ago had dislodged them.

"Shawna." Roy motioned to the woman ducking behind a nearby wall. She nodded.

Suddenly she was beside him. She took his arm.

Roy had yet to get used to the sensation of being teleported. He had almost thrown up the first time Shawna had used it on him. He only felt slightly nauseous this time. It felt like being squeezed on every side, then you were falling. Except you weren't falling, you were always standing still. It was…uncomfortable.

Cold had insisted they all get used to it. Insisted that if Shawna were to drop them off somewhere in a hurry, each person needed to be able to shake off the effects. Roy was glad for that foresight now. He wasn't going to get more than a few seconds before the man started shooting at them.

Shawna teleported them directly in front of their enemy

Roy stared directly into the meta's eyes.

The meta's eyes flashed yellow. He took a few steps back, the fear making its way through his body quickly. Roy almost turned to tell Shawna to get Cold, when he saw the meta look directly at Mark.

The meta looked at Mark without fear.

It…it hadn't worked.

The meta punched Mark, the man's impenetrable skin causing Mardon to go flying.

"Um. Roy." Shawna was still holding on to Roy's arm.

"It's…not working. He's resisting some how."

"How the hell can this thing be immune to all our powers?"

It had worked for a moment. Usually all Roy needed was a moment. A quick burst of emotion, and the person was stuck replaying it over and over until Roy released them.

The meta turned back towards them. Roy held onto the fear this time. He felt his eyes turn, saw the meta's hands start to shake.

Damn bastard was fighting him somehow.

"I…I don't know how long I can do this."

Shawna let go of him and ran over to Cold.

"Roy, hold him as…"

The meta rushed at Roy. The fear was no longer enough to keep him in place. Either the meta was better at handling fear, or he had had training on how to overcome it. Roy was tackled to the ground. He felt the wind rush out of his lungs. The meta pulled a gun and put it to Roy's head.

Roy could see the man's eyes clearly now. They were dead eyes, there was no light, no life to them. The were what Roy always imagined the eyes of an android would look like. But…but there was something there. And emotion that Roy could just barely detect. Something familiar. If Roy could just tap into that emotion he could…

The meta pulled the trigger. The gun clicked against Roy's temple.

Empty.

Roy would never underestimate luck again.

The meta grabbed another gun from his belt. Shawna appeared suddenly behind them, she grabbed the meta and teleported him to the end of the dock, dropping him into the water. A second later she was back at Roy's side.

"Shit Roy, you ok?"

"Fine."

Roy rubbed the spot where the gun had been pressed. He really should be dead. He would…he would freak out about that later

"Alright, well let's get the hell out of here before old Brick Wall decides to get out of the water."

Roy took Shawna's hand and she pulled him to his feet. Cold was standing again, although he was looking decidedly pale.

"Mardon! You dead?"

"Screw you Cold." Mark was pulling himself up against the wall he had been knocked into.

Shawna smirked.

"Looks like those two love birds are still at it."

The sound of a van approaching caused Roy to turn. He really should get a gun of some kind. They should all carry weapons, just in case their powers were to fail them. Of course Roy was a lousy shot, but that didn't mean he shouldn't have a gun.

Lisa and Mick were in the front seats of the van, they both jumped out and rushed over to their injured teammates. Mick slung Mardon's arm over his shoulders, while Lisa poked at her brother's wound.

Cold swatted his sister's hands away.

"I'm fine. Everyone, time to go."

Just once, Roy wanted to hear Cold say "blow this popsicle stand." He didn't know why, he just thought it would be funny. It wasn't like Cold didn't make terrible puns all the time anyway.

"Shit, boys we got company."

Lisa had pulled her gun and fired back towards the docks. The meta had managed to pull himself out of the water. Even Lisa's weapon seemed to do little. The gold material just slipped off his skin like water.

The meta still had yet to speak.

Roy would have to agree with Shawna, it was like fighting a brick wall.

"This is getting real damn old." Mick's gun had been hit a few minutes into the fight. It hadn't stopped the pyromaniac from running head long at the meta. Roy had no doubt that Mick was covered in an impressive array of bruises. Mick looked like he was ready to rush the meta again.

Cold grabbed his friend's arm.

"Mick. We need to go. We need to regroup."

"Look at that damn thing Len. You think it's going to give us time to regroup. It's been pulling weapons out of these crates to fight us. It'll probably just fire a missile at the van and blow us all up. We gotta take this thing now!"

Snart looked like he wanted to argue, but Mick had a point. The meta was armed again. He started firing, the bullets getting far too close. Roy and Shawna ducked behind the van.

"I don't think I can teleport us all out of here. That last one with you was already pretty rough."

Every meta had their limits. Shawna had reached hers, Mardon was definitely at his. Although Mardon had pulled a gun from one of the crates and was now firing back. The bullets also bounced off.

Fear hadn't been enough. Rage would only make things worse. Roy was certain that happiness would just make the thing laugh maniacally while it murdered them all. What else? What else could he try?

Roy watched at Mick was swatted away again. As Mardon and Lisa fired their guns with almost no effect. They were forced to move back, cutting themselves off from the van and their escape.

Cold drew the creature's attention, trying to give his teammates time to take cover, to get away. It grabbed Cold by the throat and threw him to the ground. Cold landed on his injured shoulder. He made a short cry of pain.

Roy thought about what he had seen in the creature's eyes. Something dark and…

Roy really, really didn't want to do this.

The creature raised its gun towards Cold.

Damn it.

Roy pushed himself away from the van. He ran towards the creature. It looked up towards him.

Roy caught the meta's eyes.

Roy focused every depressed thought he had ever had. Every moment of isolation he had felt since birth. Since he had realized how alone he was, how little of the world he actually saw.

Every moment of failure. Of pain. Of heartbreak.

Every time he had felt like giving up.

He held the meta's eyes. The creature seemed immobilized. Roy took another step forward. The meta's eyes were dark. Purple maybe, almost black.

Roy held it. He didn't know if the meta would be able to overcome Roy's influence if he turned away. He couldn't risk it. It would kill them all if he let go. If he didn't hold on to the pain. If he didn't keep pushing the darkness, the nothingness, into the meta's mind.

Roy just had to hold on until…

The meta raised the gun away from Cold and with one swift motion, put the gun in its mouth and pulled the trigger. The gunshot seemed to echo in Roy's mind.

Roy stood still.

Roy had never had someone die who was under his influence before. Without an outlet for his powers, someone to push the emotions on to, it felt like they were pushed back into him. His eyes were burning. He reached up to rub them. But the pain faded almost instantly. It was replaced with…nothing.

Roy felt his eyes go back to their normal color. Felt the pain and emotion, the depression, just slip away. Leaving nothing behind.

He was so tired all of a sudden. His bones felt weary, they ached. Like they were longing for something. Something he didn't know how to get back.

He heard Shawna come up behind him.

"Holy shit Roy."

Roy didn't respond. He didn't even turn. He took a step towards the meta on the ground. Roy didn't look at the head, he knew what he would see there. No reason to dwell on that. It was the gun in the meta's blood covered hand that held Roy's attention.

He bent down and picked it up.

Roy had never really been able to tell guns apart. They all looked the same to him. This one was a…berretta? That sounded right. Roy turned the gun over in his hands a few times. It had been so loud before, with everything happening, with all the shots being fired. Something so small produced such a loud sound. And now it was silent.

Still.

Roy wondered what that was like. What absolute silence sounded like, what it felt like. Would it be peaceful? Nothing to disturb him, no more doubt or pain or isolation. Just peace and quiet. That would be better wouldn't it?

Roy slipped his right hand around the grip of the gun. His finger hovered over the trigger.

"Roy, sweetheart, give me the gun."

Lisa's voice was a sudden intrusion into his thoughts. Why did she want it? Roy looked up from the weapon in his hand. Cold was still on the ground, Mick was helping him sit up. Mardon was kneeling on one side of them. Shawna on the other side of Cold, checking on the gunshot wound. Cold was still bleeding from the shoulder. Roy knew how much that hurt. How much pain could a human body really take, before it was too much?

Lisa was standing only a few feet from Roy, her hand outstretched. They all looked so concerned. Strangely it seemed aimed at him instead of their injured leader.

"The gun?"

"Roy, why don't you just let me take that off your hands. You know I'm the better shot. Come on Roy."

She was being rather insistent about it. Roy couldn't understand why. The threat had been neutralized. Roy had only picked up the gun…he had picked it up because…He couldn't really remember what he had been thinking when he picked it up. It just felt like…like the only thing to do. The only option left.

"Ok."

Roy handed the gun to Lisa. She looked genuinely relieved.

They all did.

Were there more threats he wasn't aware of? Lisa had her gold gun, why did she need…

Lisa threw the gun into the river.

Huh.

Roy felt so tired. His whole body felt exhausted, felt like he could just lie down and never get back up. Maybe he would just…

"Come on big boy, let's head home." Roy looked at Lisa's grip on his arm. He hadn't realized he had turned away from her. Where was he going? There was nothing that way except the end of the dock. He had just wanted to lay down somewhere.

Somewhere quiet.

Somewhere silent.

The water looked so peaceful tonight. The moon was coming out from behind the clouds. It made the water look like it was glowing.

The water looked so silent. So calm.

No noise, no guns, no running for his life. It wasn't like he was particularly good at any of this. He slowed the others down. And Lisa was right, he was a terrible shot. They didn't need him. His powers were nothing compared to theirs, or to the weapons they had.

He just wanted everything to be quiet for a few minutes. But Lisa's grip was crushing, refusing to let him move away. He turned his head towards her. He was having trouble making eye contact.

Her smile seemed so forced. Were they still in danger? Was there something else they should be worried about? The others should go, they should get to safety. Roy would just…he would just lie down somewhere. Just…Just for a few minutes.

"I…" Roy looked back towards the end of the dock. The water didn't seem to move. "I…just…I need to…be alone for a moment. I'm…tired and…"

"Sorry sweetheart, you know the rules…"

"You should all go. I'll…I'll be fine."

The dock was so short. Roy wondered how many people accidentally fell off the edge. One minute they were there, the next they were lost. Lost to the calm and the quiet. He…

"Come on Roy, it's not polite to make a lady ask more than once." Mardon now had a hold of Roy's other arm. His grip was just as strong as Lisa's. Just as tight. Just as unwavering. "Not that Lisa is a lady by any means…"

"Screw you Mardon."

There was such tension in their voices. Had something happened between them? Why was everyone so nervous? They were basically pulling him now. He watched as the dock got smaller, became nothing more than a dot in his vision. It was so far away now.

Roy would just have to find his quiet some other way.

Which was going to be difficult seeing as Mardon had yet to let go of his arm. The van was completely silent. Lisa had let go of Roy's arm when they had made it to the getaway vehicle. Even then she had done so very begrudgingly. Lisa was the driver. She had to be up front. Roy was sitting in the back on the floor, Mardon right next to him. Mick was in the front next to Lisa. Shawna was bandaging Snart's shoulder across from Roy.

Hadn't they brought two vans? Why had everyone piled into this one together?

They all kept looking at him. Lisa would sneak a peek in the rearview. Mick would make a quick glance over his shoulder. Shawna definitely wasn't paying enough attention to Snart's shoulder. Those bandages weren't nearly as tight as they should have been. Cold was staring directly at him. So was Mardon.

Roy had tried to keep their gazes, but it felt like more effort than he was capable of at this point. The two normally combative men shared a glance. Cold nodded to Mardon. Were the two actually agreeing on something? That felt like it should have been commented on. But Roy didn't know what to say, so he just kept silent.

"Lisa, pull over." Lisa didn't question why, didn't even hesitate. She just followed her brother's order and stopped the van.

"Mick, Lisa, Shawna get out. The three of you will head back to the safe house. Wait 24 hours, if you don't hear from us, implement Plan E-12." Roy had yet to memorize all the plans Snart had drawn up. He didn't remember Plan E-12. He found it odd that Lisa didn't make a comment. She usually said something about her brother's plans and their numeric names. She liked to give them nicknames. Much to her brother's annoyance.

Mick looked like he was going to argue.

"Len, you should head back too. Mardon can…"

"My crew, my responsibility. Besides, it's not like I would be very much help should you need to come and get us. Not to mention they have a medical doctor. No offense Shawna."

"None taken. Bullet's still in your shoulder. No idea how I was going to get that sucker out without just digging around blindly."

Were they going to the hospital? Maybe Cold's injuries were more severe than Roy had thought. Mick pulled open the sliding side door and he and Lisa got out. Lisa smiled at Roy.

"We'll make sure everything is ready at the safe house. Hell I might even cook something that isn't eggs. Place will be nice and cozy when you boys get back."

Why was she being so cheerful? Shouldn't she be saying goodbye to her bleeding brother? Roy looked down at his hands.

There was something happening, and if Roy had had the energy, he might have tried to figure it out. But he couldn't bring himself to care. If he could just get this weariness to leave his bones maybe he could focus.

Shawna lifted his head and looked him in the eyes.

"Keep an eye on these two idiots, ok Roy? Try to keep them from killing each other. Can you do that for me?"

Cold and Mardon seemed to be getting along fine. Roy didn't see any way that he could help them.

"Sure." It was halfhearted at best, but Shawna smiled so he supposed it was good enough. Even if her smile was obviously fake.

Mardon moved to the front seat and started the van back up.

"See you soon."

Cold gave a small salute, then closed the van door. He moved to the spot beside Roy that Mark had just vacated. There was plenty of room in the van now, there was no need for Cold to stay so close. They drove in silence for a few minutes.

Was this part of the original plan? He didn't remember a part about them splitting up. They must have changed the plan earlier when Cold got shot. Roy looked out the front window.

"This isn't the way to the hospital."

"No it isn't." Cold was looking at him strangely. Roy didn't have the social skills to interpret the man's looks on the best of days. He knew he wouldn't have any luck today. Not when it felt like there was this fog in his mind that he couldn't quite see through.

He had no idea where they were going. He should care, shouldn't he? He could at least put forth the effort and ask.

"Where are we going?"

"STAR labs." Cold was looking at Roy intently now. Looking for something. Searching for something.

"Oh." Roy turned his head back towards his hands. Thinking about STAR labs used to make him feel panicked. The idea of being trapped in those boxes again had been a constant fear. Sometimes at night he would forget where he was, forget he was free. His heart would pound in his chest, his breathing would be rapid and quick. Sometimes he had to paint for hours just to get his heart rate back under control.

He didn't feel any of that now. No panic or fear. Just this…complete apathy. What did it matter if they locked him back up? If they kept him hidden away for years, for decades even. If he didn't see the sun, if he just withered away into dust. Did it really matter? Even the thought of never being able to paint again didn't stir any emotions.

Roy didn't know why they were going to STAR labs.

And he found, he really couldn't make himself care.

The van pulled up to the large building. It loomed over them. Mardon got out first, then came around and pulled open the door. Cold nudged Roy. It took a moment for Roy to realize that Cold wanted him to get out of the vehicle. Roy grabbed Mardon's outstretched hand. The other meta didn't let go once Roy was outside.

Cold was the one who would need help, but Mardon just kept holding on to Roy's arm. Snart stumbled slightly out of the car. Mardon looked towards the building and snorted.

"They seriously haven't upgraded their security yet? Think any of them are even here?"

"I doubt our luck is that good. Come on Roy, we need to get something from inside."

So they were stealing something else then. Roy didn't think walking in the front door was an effective strategy, but the other two men had more experience than he did. Maybe it was their boldness that kept them from being caught. They were walking down the halls like they belonged there. They were the real criminals. He was just a pretender.

"Where would they keep it? Do we even know what we are looking for?"

"If nothing else we can get some drugs to incapacitate him until…"

"Stop right there!" Caitlin Snow was standing at the end of the hallway, she had some sort of futuristic weapon in her hands. "Don't take another step, I have already called the Flash he will be here any minute." Cold smiled and raised his good arm placatingly.

"Dr. Snow. Just the woman we were looking for."

Her eyes flashed to Cold's hastily bandaged shoulder.

"You're hurt." Roy could actually see her struggling against her desire to help someone who was injured. "This isn't a hospital. You are wanted criminals, you can't just barge in here every time…."

"Believe me, Dr. Snow, if it was just a simple gun shot wound we wouldn't have disturbed you but there is another issue we…."

There was a certain feeling in the air when the Flash would arrive. It was almost like a small breeze. To anyone who hadn't felt it before, they would have ignored it. But Roy and the others had felt it. It was less than a split second, but it was still a moment of forewarning.

"Cold! What do you think you are doing? Caitlin, you ok?" The Flash stood behind them, looking ready for anything. Roy looked at Mardon. Usually the man was the first to instigate a fight, but he seemed oddly calm. Was he feeling the same apathy Roy was? Had Roy accidentally used his powers on one of the Rogues? Is that what they were doing here? Was Cold fed up with Roy, had Roy broken the rules, and was now being left to rot in a hole in the ground?

"We aren't here to fight Flash. As I was just explaining to the good doctor, we have an issue you might be able to help us with. It's rather pressing and…"

"Why would I help you? You betrayed me, you and your group have been committing crimes unchecked for the past few months. What's to stop me from just grabbing the three of you and throwing you into the pipeline…"

Mardon put a hand up.

"Please… don't do that. Please."

The Flash seemed a little stunned by Mardon's plea. Roy was certain he would have been as well, had he been able to feel anything.

"We…need help. If you lock us up now…" Mardon looked to Cold, as if asking for permission. Cold nodded. "Roy needs help. He will die."

Roy didn't think he had been injured. He knew he hadn't been shot. Cold was the one who was injured.

"He looks fine."

Roy turned towards Caitlin's voice. He meant to contribute something to the conversation but didn't see the point. They would do whatever they wanted with him. He didn't see a point in fighting against it.

"He…we got in a situation earlier tonight. Roy had to use his powers but…something happened or he couldn't control it, we don't know for sure. But he's being affected by it and we can't get him to shake it."

"Why doesn't he just stop it himself?"

"We don't think he realizes he's been affected. And at this point…he doesn't appear to care."

The Flash took a careful step towards Mardon and Roy.

"I don't understand, he looks fine. How can his life be in danger?"

Captain Cold had a certain tone to his voice. It was this…theatricality, this larger than life sound. Made the man sound like he was always amused, always ready for another game, another fight, another job. There was none of that when Leonard Snart spoke.

"Because he's tried to kill himself twice in the last hour. And if we let him go, we are certain he will try again."

Caitlin had made a noise of surprise at that. The Flash looked horrified.

"What the hell were you guys doing that…."

"Can we save the moralistic speeches for later? Are you assholes going to help us or not." Mardon had remained calm for almost ten minutes. That had to be some sort of record.

The Flash walked up to Roy. He looked at Mardon's grip.

"If this is some kind of trick…"

"I wouldn't risk my team getting locked up if it wasn't real. We need whatever you have that can reverse Roy's powers and we need it now."

The Flash was in Roy's personal space now. Roy couldn't seem to lift his head to look the hero in the eyes. It was just…too much. Why wouldn't they just let him lie down?

The Flash seemed to come to some sort of decision.

"Cisco, where is the light array?"

Was Cisco here as well…ah there he was. Roy hadn't noticed him. He must have been waiting for some sort of signal, acting as backup. He was also holding a gun of some sort.

"I will…I will go grab it." Cisco sped past them, back towards the hallway the Flash had appeared from.

"The infirmary is this way."

Mardon started pulling Roy along. He saw Cold and the Flash talking about something very quietly. Then the Flash raced past them. He was already in the infirmary when the rest of them arrived. The place looked slightly askew, like something had come through and moved everything. And there were the straps on the bed.

Mardon guided him over to the bed. Roy sat down. He felt like he should be contributing something to the conversation.

"When did I try to kill myself?"

Mardon pushed Roy lightly to make him lie down. Finally. He was so tired.

"Earlier. Don't worry about it Roy. We'll talk about it later."

"Ok." Mardon didn't seem concerned that they were back at STAR labs. Caitlin was tightening the restraints around Roy's arms and legs. When she was done, Mardon finally let go of Roy's arm.

"Just lay there alright? They're going to get this sorted out."

"Ok."

Roy closed his eyes. There was a small pain in his right arm. Like a needle.

"What was that?"

"Just a mild sedative. We don't know how he will react when Cisco uses the light array on him."

"He doesn't need to be any more sedated."

"Mardon. Relax. The doctor is just doing her job." Snart sounded tired as well.

"Speaking of my job, I should take a look at your shoulder." Her voice carried a tone of authority, there was hardly a waiver to it.

The next thing Roy heard was Cold hissing in pain.

"The bullet's still in there. How did this happen?"

"Peril of the job. I was going to get it looked at but we had to alter our plans slightly."

Roy was starting to feel strange. Whatever drug she had given him was starting to take affect. Roy opened his eyes.

"Mark?"

"Yea Roy?"

"We're going to get locked up again."

"Don't worry about it Roy."

"I'm not. I'm not worried about it. I just thought you might want to go before…"

"I'm sticking around Roy, that's the plan."

"Oh." Roy turned his head towards Snart. Caitlin was stitching him up, she must have already removed the bullet. She was quite efficient. "I don't think I heard the plan."

"We will explain your part to you in a minute Roy. Just relax."

He was relaxed. The drugs were starting to make everything hazy.

"Mark."

"Yea Roy." Mardon looked almost amused.

"I…I'm very tired. I just want to…you and Cold could leave. I'm sure they…"

Mardon rubbed his face. He no longer looked amused. Now he looked tired.

"Just shut up Roy."

"Mardon!" It was Caitlin who reprimanded Mark. "Be nice to him. It will all be over in a minute Biv…Roy."

"Hopefully." Roy sighed. "I…"

"One Light Brite for my main Rainbow man." Cisco had come barreling into the room. "And yes, I have resigned myself to the fact that no one calls you Prism but me, so I am going with the group. As much as it pains me to do so."

"Roy, open your eyes."

Roy opened them at Cold's command. Though it seemed to take more effort than normal.

The Flash and Cisco were standing beside the bed. An odd device in their hands.

"You sure this will work Cisco?"

"Of course! As long as what's affecting him is a byproduct of getting whammied by his own juju. And not some deeper issue caused by overexertion of his powers, which has destroyed his own ability to feel emotions. In which case I'm not sure…"Cisco seemed to notice that the Rogues were glaring at him, "Aaannnddd I'm sure that's not the case! This will definitely, definitely work."

Cisco pointed the device at Roy.

"Ok man, just focus on the colorful lights."

Mardon grabbed the device before Cisco could even turn it on.

"How does this thing work?"

"What, really? You guys come to us for help and don't even trust us?"

The Flash stepped closer to Mardon.

"It's completely harmless. They used it on me once. It's a series of lights of alternating colors that…"

"Damn it! I'm going to kill that piece of shit." Mardon created a gust of wind that knocked a chair through the window.

"Woah man, what the hell? We haven't even tried it yet." Cisco looked to Cold for an explanation for the outburst. Cold was pale from the blood loss, and he had lost his parka and shirt at some point. Roy couldn't remember if Cold had been wearing it in the van or not. Roy was having trouble noticing details, or remembering them. Everything seemed so unimportant.

Cold looked angry, but not at any of them.

"He's already dead Mardon."

"Well then we find someone who can bring people back to life and then we kill him again."

"Mardon…"

"Does someone want to explain why we aren't helping Bivolo?"

Cold stood up from the bed so that he was facing the Flash.

"Roy's color blind."

There was the look of sinking realization on the STAR labs team's faces. Their toy wasn't going to work on him.

"Maybe I can…." Cisco moved slightly away from the bed and started tinkering with the device.

Caitlin stepped forward.

"What type of color blindness does he have, maybe we can alter it so that it will reflect the colors he can see. Maybe that would be enough to knock him out of this loop."

"Roy? What kind of color blindness do you have?" Cold looked at Roy expectantly.

"Achromatopsia."

They all turned and looked at Caitlin.

"Complete or incomplete?"

"Incomplete, sometimes I think I can see hints of red."

"Caitlin?"

"Achromatopsia means he is literally color blind. He sees the world as black and white, like an old movie on TV. Other forms allow a person to see certain colors, but they get them confused. Bivolo…he has the rarest form of color blindness."

"Of course you do Roy. Of course you are immune to your own treatment." Mardon still looked like he wanted to start a tornado. Roy was a little surprised it hadn't started raining in here yet.

"Wow so maybe Rainbow Raider wasn't a great name for him."

"I liked that name." Sometimes when his eyes flashed, and he used his powers on someone else, he could swear he saw color reflected back in their eyes.

Mardon was looking at Cold.

"What the hell do we do now?"

Snart sighed.

"I don't know."

That might have been the first time Roy had ever heard Cold say he didn't know the answer. That he couldn't see a way out. Roy was certain he should be alarmed by that.

"We will figure something out. Is it possible that his powers might eventually…turn themselves off? I mean, every meta has their limits. Eventually he is going to reach his, right?"

Cold looked towards the Flash. The hero seemed so willing to help those that had betrayed him. Roy was certain he would have left the Flash to his own fate if the roles were reversed. That was just the type of person he was. He was just another common…

"Wait. I got it!" Cisco looked rather pleased with himself. "Can he manipulate more than one emotion at a time?"

Cold shared a glance with Mardon.

"I've only ever seen him do one."

"Ok, so if he has looped himself then what we need to do is at least get him out of this one right? Cause this no emotion thing is super freaky. So, if we can get him to use his powers and reflect a new emotion back at himself, that should break this cycle."

"But then he will just be stuck in another one."

"Yea but wouldn't you rather he be like super angry or super happy instead of….this."

Roy was looking at them all. It did sound like a solid plan. Too bad he wouldn't be able to keep up his end of it.

"You can reflect his powers?"

"Totes. Give me like five…seven minutes." Cisco ran out of the room. The boy seemed to have an endless supply of energy. Roy felt more exhausted just watching him.

"Roy."

"Cold."

"Your part of the plan is coming up."

"I can hear all of you, you know."

"So you understand what I need you to do then."

"Use my powers."

"That's it exactly. Can you do that?"

"I…I don't know."

"Roy…"

"I'm…so tired. And I just…I just want to lie here."

Mardon moved closer.

"Come on Roy. The others are waiting back at the safe house. Can't have them waiting all night because you're feeling lazy."

Mark was trying to goad him. That didn't work on normal days. It wasn't going to work today.

"It just…seems so pointless."

"Roy, when you joined my crew, I told you there would be rules to follow. And that you had to follow my orders when we are on the job."

"The job is over…"

"We are in STAR labs, surrounded by our enemies. The Flash is going to throw all of us in the pipeline. The job is not over, not until we are all back safe and sound."

The sedative was making it hard for Roy to stay focused on what was happening around him. He kept losing time when he closed his eyes. One minute he was staring at Cold, the next Cold was in the corner talking to Cisco. The kid had what looked like a darkened mirror in his hands.

Cold took it from Cisco and walked over to Roy.

"All right Roy, time for you to earn your keep."

Roy looked at the reflective surface. He wanted to follow Cold's orders, he wanted to do right by his team. But he…

"I can't…"

"Roy I thought we just…"

"I…I can't seem to remember any other emotions." There was just the nothingness that had spread throughout him so quickly. Without him truly noticing it at first. He had forgotten everything that had come before. Had he ever felt anything other than this…this emptiness?

Would he ever feel anything again?

Dr. Snow injected something else into his arm. Mardon didn't look pleased.

"More sedatives?

"A strong dose of anti-depressant. We need him to be able to access the emotional centers of his brain. Normally, such a dose would be a bad idea but due to the extreme situation, we just need him to be able to access those centers for just a moment. Hopefully he can access his emotions long enough to trigger his powers."

"How long is that going to take?"

"It should work fairly quickly."

"Ok, Roy. Your moment is coming up. Whatever emotion pops in there first, you latch onto it and then you use your powers. Keep your eyes on your reflection. That's it."

Mardon's hand was on his shoulder. It was strange, Roy doubted he and Mardon would have ever met, let alone become friends, if it wasn't for the particle accelerator. Roy assumed he would be locked up, living through another two year stint in prison. Maybe he would be trying to sell his paintings for a couple bucks on the street, barely making enough to live. His life had been on a path that he hadn't seen a way to escape from.

But now, now he had a crew that watched his back. That split their winnings, as well as their loses. For the first time, since before his parents died, he didn't feel like the odd man out. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't felt in a long time. Once he could barely remember. But sometimes…Sometimes when they were all just sitting around playing poker, or when Shawna would bring him food if he forgot to eat, or Mardon dropped by Roy's apartment just to sit on his futon while Roy painted, sometimes in those moments he almost felt…

Happy.

Roy thought he saw a flash of color in the eyes of his reflection.

Roy smiled. His team had his back. They wouldn't let Roy get stuck in the pipeline. The Rogues looked out for each other, like a….

"Roy?"

"Mark."

"How you feeling buddy?" The amused look was back on Mardon's face. Roy thought whatever the reason, it was nice to see Mardon looking not quite so…thunderous.

Roy snorted a little at his own joke. He was too funny sometimes. Mardon rolled his eyes, but still looked amused.

"Yea, I'd say this is a little better than before."

Roy wanted to tell them that he had never felt better in his life. But his eyes started to slip closed. Roy was tired, the others would take care of the details. Roy feel asleep, still smiling.

* * *

Mark watched Roy on the gurney. The damn idiot was asleep and he still had that ridiculous smile on his face. Anything was better than…than whatever the hell that was. Roy was normally so easy to read, his emotions always so visible. Roy's face had been so…blank. His eyes had looked like a dead man's. Nothing in them.

Cold was sitting back on the other gurney. The dream team had left them alone in the room, no doubt monitoring them from the cameras that were hidden all over the damn place.

It was going to be a son of a bitch to get out of here if the Flash didn't feel like letting them go. Roy turned onto his side, still sleeping. They had removed the straps, once they were sure Roy wasn't a danger to himself anymore.

Mardon had hated every second of that. When Roy had picked up that gun out of the dead meta's hand, when he had started to point it at himself…

"Never again."

Cold looked up at Mark's tone. Mark didn't care if he got kicked off the damn team. Didn't care if Cold froze him to the spot. This had to be said.

"He never does that again. I don't care what the damn situation is. I don't care whose life is in danger. He never uses that…again."

Mark expected an argument. Expected the calculating man across from him to explain why such risks were necessary. Why Roy should be willing to do whatever it took to make sure the job got done.

Instead, Cold just looked at Roy.

"Agreed."

Mark didn't like that he didn't have an outlet for his fear…his anger. It wasn't fear. Mark didn't have anything to be afraid of. Roy was basically still a stranger to him. Sure he might have been a little worried for a moment or two when…

This was all that goddamn asshole General's fault. Mark was going to find and roast the man alive. He was the one who sent that meta after them, hell he probably created it somehow. The damn thing had been able to fight off all of their attacks. That piece of shit was the one who put them in the situation where Roy had been forced to…do that. To kill that meta. Had Roy ever even killed anyone before?

This whole situation was shit. Mark wondered how Roy was going to feel about all this when he was finally back to himself. The idiot would probably just paint for a couple days straight and get over it. Roy had the weirdest way of dealing with things. Mark's own methods of dealing with pain had a tendency to involve destruction. Even before he had gotten his powers.

Mark opened his mouth to tell Cold how he planned to murder the General. There was going to be lots and lots of pain involved, but Cold raised a hand quickly.

"Not here."

Cold made a small head movement towards the corner. Mark felt angry again, they were watching them. The damn bastards had all these cameras, always thinking they could control metas who got out of line. Mark should show them…

"They helped us Mardon. And we might need that help again someday if something like this were to happen again."

Damn man was a mind reader. Mark clenched his fists.

"And if they decide they need to keep us locked up. If they won't let us leave?"

"They will."

It was how calm Cold always seemed to be that infuriated Mark the most. Mark was used to being the more level-headed, the one always in control. Clyde had been the wild and unpredictable one. The one who reveled in the adrenaline and the destruction.

But then, Cold was an older brother too. He knew what it was to have to watch out for someone his whole life. To be responsible for them. His sister had that same need for adrenaline that Clyde had possessed. Lisa and Clyde would have gotten along. They also would have probably destroyed half of Central City before the older siblings would have been forced to intervene. Forced to save their asses.

Cold started to stand up, Mark walked over and offered his hand. Cold hesitated, but took it.

Cold looked directly at the camera.

"We are going to leave now."

The Flash was in the room before Cold had finished his sentence.

"You think I'm just going to let you go? You guys are criminals. Not to mention you don't even know if Bivolo will be alright."

"We take care of our own. Roy will be fine. Besides, you would much rather prefer we leave now."

"And why's that?"

"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that there are only three of us here right now. And I'm sure you're also aware of my sister and Mick's penchant for destruction. Now, it has been a long and trying day, and I'm certain that the other two members of my crew would be more than willing to have an outlet for all that pent up aggression. I can't guarantee they won't be…more rough than is absolutely necessary. I would hate for one of your friends to get caught in a crossfire. Not to mention the fact that you would have to focus all your energy on fighting Mardon here. God knows the kind of mischief I could get into given a moment alone with all the technology in this place."

Mark was aware of the fact that Cold was deliberately leaving Shawna out of his description. The Flash might not know who all was in the crew, it made sense to leave out vital information. Especially if that information would make it easier for them to escape.

"Now, like I said, it's been a long day. All we want to do is be on our way, and get a good night's sleep. So what do you say Flash. How about we all walk away from this one, with a job well done."

"How would letting three criminals leave be a job well done for me?"

"You got to be a hero, got to save a man's life. Figured that would be a gold star day for you. Or is the life of a criminal not worth the same to you as anyone else?" Cold knew how to play the kid, Mardon had to give the man credit.

"You're a real dick."

Mark barked out a surprised laugh. Didn't know the kid was capable of cussing. Even Cold smiled at that.

"I am aware. Mark." Cold nodded towards Roy. Mardon walked over and threw Roy over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. The sleeping man didn't even stir.

The speaker system turned on, and the voice of the doctor filled the room.

"The drugs will wear off in a few hours, if he hasn't regained consciousness by morning you should bring him back."

"Caitlin!"

"What? The man needed medical attention. I'm sorry Cisco but the interaction between the sedative and the anti-depressants could have negative side effects. Ideally he should be monitored constantly until he regains consciousness."

Shawna would be able to handle that. They might have to stop and pick up some more specific medical supplies on the way back to the safe house. Probably needed to get some stuff for Cold's shoulder as well.

"Thank you Caitlin for the advice. And all your help."

"And you should keep your arm in that sling for at least two weeks. Don't do any heavy lifting or…" It sounded like the microphone was being pulled again.

"They can Google this stuff or look it up on WebMD later. They want to go, lets let them go before Mardon decides to go all The Day after Tomorrow in our lab."

"I heard that you know." Mark swore he could hear Cisco cussing. The Flash and Cold were staring at each other.

"One day your luck is going to run out Cold. How many other people are you going to take with you when you do? Roy could have died because of you."

"But he didn't. So all's well that ends well."

The Flash looked disgusted.

"You really don't care about anything but yourself and your games do you?"

Mark had thought that himself for awhile. Of course Mark had information that the Flash didn't. Mark had once seen Cold almost beat a man to death with his bare hands because the man had punched Lisa. Not to mention the fact that Cold had just walked into his enemy's strong hold, injured and with no guarantee of help, just so he could save a member of his crew.

The Flash didn't understand Cold. Didn't understand the Rogues.

Cold smiled at Flash, then started to walk towards the exit. Mark hoped Cold could make it to the van on his own, he wasn't sure he could carry Cold and Roy. Maybe he could use the wind to sort of push Cold along.

They met no resistance as they walked outside. There were no cops waiting for them. No flashing lights, no one yelling freeze. Mark was a little surprised. He would have thought the Flash wouldn't have been able to overcome his morals and let them just leave.

Cold opened the door to the van, and sat down heavily. Mark laid Roy down as carefully as he could, although he might have bumped the man's head a bit.

It was a quiet drive back. Mark kept looking in his rearview. Trying to see if they were being followed. He didn't spot a tail, although the Flash could just wait until they got to the safe house and then run to them. Cold looked like he was almost out of it completely.

It was up to Mark to get everyone back safely. His palms started sweating a little. Damn. He had forgotten what it was like to be in charge. To have to watch every move, every car, every sign, every hint. Cops could be anywhere, the General could be sending more freaks after them right now. Mark let out a slow breath.

He hadn't realized he had lost the taste for that kind of responsibility. After Clyde…

Screw it. Cold wanted to be in charge. Mark could let him be in charge.

For now.

As long as Cold kept them out of jail, Mark could take a step back for a bit. Cold seemed to know the Flash better than Mark did. Knew how to keep the pretentious boy scout off their backs. Maybe Mark could follow for a little while.

And if he didn't like it, if Cold couldn't keep them all safe…

Mark snuck a look back at the man sleeping in the back.

He could always leave.

There was nothing tying him to these people.

He could leave whenever he wanted. It was just another job. Just another crew.

Mark kept his eyes on the road.

Yea.

He could…he could always just leave.


	5. Chapter 5

Revenge was not something Roy spent a lot of time contemplating. Aside from the incident in art school, he had rarely given into the impulse. Well, maybe there were a few other instances. Some people who should have given his art the respect it deserved. But those had always been, reactionary, heat of the moment type things.

He had never gone so far as to steal the blueprints of a highly secured military base, with the intention of breaking into it just to get revenge on one man.

This was definitely not Cold's first incredibly thorough, meticulously planned revenge. The safe house was filled with blueprints and folders full of information. Not just on General Collins, but on everyone he worked with, every member of his family, every person he had ever spoken to. Maybe not that detailed, but at this point Roy had to assume Cold had those files somewhere too. Somehow the man seemed to be able to find information that no one else could find.

The job was scheduled for tomorrow. Everything was finally in place. The security codes necessary for their entrance and exits had been provided by Cold's mystery hacker contact.

Hartley.

The kid was hardly a mystery now that he was standing right in front of Roy. The kid wouldn't be a part of the group that went into the ARGUS facility. Partly because Cold didn't fully trust him yet. And partly because this wasn't the kid's fight. If it had been a normal job, a heist, then Hartley would have been with them. He was going to have to prove himself a Rogue somehow.

This was a personal mission. And no matter how confident Cold seemed, he couldn't be certain everything would go off without a hitch. That people would stick to the plan. That no one would get hurt.

Roy had actually been opposed to the idea when Cold first explained it to them.

"I don't understand, why would we go after him? The next time…"

"Seriously Roy? You don't think we should after this son of a bitch. After what he did to you?" Mardon always seemed so angry when Roy's…episode was brought up.

"Technically he didn't do anything to me. My powers…"

"He sent that freak show after us. Would have killed us all if you hadn't stopped him. No. Cold's right. We need to take this bastard out. And we need to take him out hard."

Cold had put up a hand to slow Mardon's angry tirade.

"Actually. Killing him isn't part of the plan."

Even Shawna had looked offended by that.

"Wait seriously? I thought the 'no killing rule' didn't apply to revenge? We are just going to let this guy walk?"

"We should kill this guy and leave his body scattered in pieces. Send a warning to anyone else who tries to come after the Rogues."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm with Mardon on this brother dear. That man needs to suffer."

"Believe me. Suffering is definitely a part of the plan. But killing a high-ranking General within ARGUS will only lead to more headaches. We kill this man and we will have the entire military after us. We won't end up in Iron Heights or the Flash's little pipeline. Lisa, Mick, and I would end up in a secret prison somewhere so remote that escape wouldn't just be impossible, it would be pointless. While our three meta members would be carved up like lab rats or end up being forced to use their powers for the military. We aren't going to kill this man. Not when there would be no benefit. We are, after all, thieves. So we are going to do what we do best. We are going to take everything precious and valuable in General Collins' life away from him."

It had taken awhile for Cold to convince the others that killing Collins wasn't the right play. But eventually he had worn them down. Actually he had gotten them to agree not to kill the man on sight. Which was probably the best he was going to get from Mardon.

Now they were listening to Hartley explain the basics of the system that would get them into ARGUS.

Well Roy, Shawna, and Cold were listening to Hartley. Mick had threatened to set the kid's face on fire for being such a "self righteous prick." It hadn't taken long for Mardon to get fed up with Hartley as well. Lisa had pulled them both out of the room under the guise of double checking the vans and the guns. Hartley seemed unaware of how close he had come to being set on fire. It certainly hadn't diminished the boy's condescending tone.

"It's simple. Well, simple for someone with a genius level IQ and multiple degrees I suppose. The rest of you will be able to muddle through I'm sure. I'll be on the coms in case one of you manages to screw up, even though I have made this as fool proof as possible." Hartley's tone implied that he believed that them screwing everything up was the likely scenario.

"You'll be back up only. You won't speak unless we ask for your assistance." Cold didn't seem annoyed by any of the condescending words that came out of Hartley's mouth. In fact, it appeared to amuse him. Hartley continued to get more and more annoyed by how little heed Cold seemed to pay him.

"Right. Of course. Why would you possibly want someone who can out-think basically every person on the planet helping you?"

"Because, despite your best attempts, I like you kid. I think you would make a good addition to the team. And I would hate for Mick to get so pissed off by your voice during the job, that the first thing he does when he gets back here is murder you."

Hartley scoffed.

"I'm not afraid of that…"

"He almost strangled me to death once. Right after our first job together." Roy decided he could help the conversation a bit.

Hartley looked a little bewildered by that.

"You see. And Mick likes Roy. Mick can be a little…unpredictable at times."

Shawna made an amused noise.

"Aww, thought you were going to say something like explosive or hot-headed there boss man. Missed a golden pun opportunity."

Shawna was lounging on the couch beside Roy. There was plenty of room for both of them. But for some reason she insisted on invading his personal space. Her feet were currently resting on top of his legs. Lisa also took every opportunity to get into Roy's space, but it seemed more like a game to her. For Shawna…Roy thought she was just far more comfortable with physical contact than Roy would ever be. He ignored it for as long as he could before he pushed her feet off. She just readjusted so that they were now pressed against him, instead of on him.

He was going to take that as a victory.

Cold smirked.

"Can't use all the good ones on you guys. Have to save some for the show."

Hartley looked confused. He had never been on a real job with them, had never seen them interact with the cops or the Flash. He had only really met Leonard Snart. He had yet to experience Captain Cold.

"You are all internationally known thieves right? I haven't stumbled into some bizarre frat house? How did this…team ever get anything accomplished before I came along? Can we get back to the plan now, or were you all going to crush beer cans on your heads next?"

Cold made a dismissive wave with his hand.

"I think we have it all down."

"Really? You've memorized all 247 possible variations of the code sequence for the first door that I gave you? You know how to get…"

"I memorized those codes the first night you gave them to us kid, and if you think we will have time to try 247 variations to get through one door, then you really aren't ready for this line of work."

Shawna sat up.

"Wait. Is this his first job? Like ever? We are putting our fates in the hands of some newbie?"

"I'm not some idiot kid trying to…" Cold put up a hand.

"Enough. Shawna, go check on the others. Make sure everything's ready for tomorrow. Hartley, you said there was something else you wanted to show me."

Shawna and Hartley glared at each other for a moment. But both eventually turned. Shawna left the room and Hartley turned and walked towards several brief cases he had brought with him.

Roy got up and stood next to Cold. They watched Hartley tinkering with something in one of the brief cases. Cold spoke first.

"You going to question my choices too?"

"No. I'm sure you have your reasons for wanting him involved. I'm not exactly anyone's first choice for a team of thieves."

"That's because most people don't know what to look for. I see potential."

"And his…attitude about all this doesn't bother you?"

"He's young, and regardless of what he thinks, he's stupid. Which means he either, tries to pull something off on his own and ends up dead, or we find a way to bring him into the fold. He is a lot more use to us alive."

"So we just need to keep him away from Mardon and Mick."

"Yes, Lisa likes Hartley. She should be able to help keep the peace. There's something I want to discuss with you before the job."

"Hm?"

"I said the General was going to live through this. I mean that Roy."

Roy was confused. Did Cold want Roy to keep an eye on Mardon? Roy glanced at Cold.

"I know. I don't think Mardon will do anything stupid."

"Not Mardon I'm worried about."

It took Roy a moment to understand what Cold was implying.

"Wait. Me? You think I'm going to kill him?"

Hartley had made his way back. He was holding something that Roy swore looked like a modified harmonica.

"Ok, this is only to be used if…"

Roy ignored whatever Hartley was going to say.

"Why would you think I would kill him?"

"It's one thing to know someone tried to kill you. It's another thing when you have them at your mercy. I'm not sure you won't be tempted to use…that particular color."

That particular color. Or what Mardon had jokingly called 'Roy's murder eyes' when he was drunk once. Mardon hadn't remembered saying it the next day, so Roy had never brought it up again.

Roy couldn't really describe the color that had flashed in that meta's eyes before it…

Cold interrupted Roy's thoughts.

"I've made myself very clear on that subject haven't I?"

It had taken a few days for Roy's emotions to get back under his control after his…episode. And the others had been annoyingly present for every step of it. Shawna, Lisa, and Mardon had all made Roy swear that he would never use that facet of his powers again. No matter the circumstance. Cold had out right ordered him never to use it. Hell, Mick had even grunted in agreement with Cold's order.

Roy never wanted to use it again. It had only worked because the meta already had those thoughts inside him. Because Roy had recognized them in himself.

He could still remember how…how everything had felt so distant. So insignificant. So unimportant.

He would never use that power again.

At least, not on someone as pathetic as General Collins.

"I'm not going to use it on him."

Cold and Roy stared at each other for a moment. Hartley finally grew impatient.

"Have I missed something? Or is this some sort of secret thieves code I'm not privy too."

Cold looked at Roy for a few more seconds. Then he abruptly turned and headed for the door.

"I'll go check on the others. Explain the device to Roy."

"Fine. I'll just explain to your flunkies the incredibly complicated…." Cold was already gone. Hartley seemed downright angry. "Does he have any idea how…"

"Word of advice kid?"

"No please by all means, lets discuss idle chit chat. I'm sure whatever nuggets of knowledge an art school graduate has for a…"

"You read up on us?"

"Of course. I did my homework on all of you before I agreed to this little tete-a-tete. And I suppose congratulations are in order, you have the highest level of education of any of the so-called Rogues. Truly the cream of the crop."

"You think my degree makes me smarter than the others?"

"Oh let me guess, this is where you tell me that a piece of paper doesn't determine intelligence. That, street smarts are equivalent to a PhD. Yes, your folksy wisdom has really opened my eyes. I'm a new man."

Roy thought about trying to talk to the kid. Trying to convince him that his attitude would only get him killed in this line of work. Roy understood it, in school, being the best meant making sure everyone knew you were the best. You shouted it from the rooftops so that you wouldn't get passed over for awards or grants or praise.

But in this line of work, being underestimated was the best way to stay alive. Cold had understood that from the beginning, and the rest of the Rogues were catching on.

Hartley seemed like the type that didn't learn life lessons as easy as he learned everything else. So Roy just shrugged at the kid.

Hartley would figure it out on his own eventually.

Or he would be dead.

"Why is everything musically themed with you?"

"You work with a man who wears a parka in the summer because his name is Captain Cold and you have a problem with my theme?"

"No. I was just curious. You play the flute?" Roy pointed at the boy's gauntlets. They were clearly inspired by the musical instrument.

"I was classically trained in several instruments since before most children are potty trained."

Everything the kid said sounded like a brag. But there was something in the boy's tone that Roy found familiar. Something almost melancholy.

"You play at all anymore?"

Hartley's voice was annoyed, his response clipped.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Oh you know, what with all the high stakes sitting around and watching you all plan a heist I've been doing, I've hardly had the time for anything else. I've just been waiting by the phone…"

Roy pointed to Hartley's ears.

"Cold said you were deaf without those things."

Hartley's frown deepened. Which Roy hadn't thought possible. Hartley's eyes narrowed.

"And you're colorblind. Rather inconvenient for a painter wouldn't you say?"

"Doesn't stop me from painting. Being deaf stop you from playing?"

There was a flicker in the kid's eyes. A moment of something more than defensive sarcasm and hostility.

It was covered up quickly. The contemptuous look was back so quickly, Roy might have thought he imagined seeing anything else.

"We are not going to bond over our disabilities."

Roy smiled at that. Roy was starting to see why Cold liked this kid. He was an

asshole, much like the rest of them. And too stubborn for his own good, exactly like the rest of them.

"Are you sure? We go in together we might be able to convince Cold to give us disability pay in addition to our usual cut. Threaten to file a complaint with the ADA if he doesn't agree."

Roy could have sworn he saw Hartley smirk. But the boy turned quickly back to the object in his hands.

"If you are quite finished, perhaps you would like to actually listen to me. Seeing as that is the only way you idiots are all going to live through this incredibly stupid plan of yours."

* * *

They were able to infiltrate the ARGUS facility with relative ease. They took out the guards leading up to the control room without being noticed. Hartley's computer program was running through ARGUS's defenses quickly and efficiently. Once they were within view of their target, Shawna teleported them all into the room.

Cold took the lead. He had made sure to impress upon the Rogues the importance of letting him do all the talking.

"You really need better security. Anyone could just walk right in."

Amanda Waller didn't seem like the type to have a sense of humor. Her general look of apathy to the sudden appearance of the Rogues in her control room was impressive.

Mick and Lisa had their guns aimed and ready to fire. Mardon created small static charges in his hands, as though he was itching to electrocute everyone in the room. Roy supposed he was the least threatening of the group. He didn't have a weapon, and had no way to show his powers without actually using them. So he simply stood at the ready, and made sure he could make eye contact with everyone in the room.

"Gentlemen, ladies. I must say I'm a little disappointed. I thought you were smarter than this Mr. Snart."

Cold pushed the hood of his parka down and made a show of holstering his weapon.

"Ms. Waller. I've heard a great deal about you. And if you are half as smart as they say you are, you'll know that if we were here to fight, we would already have won."

Waller made a simple motion with her hand. Every soldier in the room lowered their weapons.

"I'm listening."

"General Collins, he's one of yours."

"A good man."

"Yes. I'm sure he was. But grief can turn even the best of men into…well I'm sure you know the old adage."

"His son's death…"

"Was indirectly caused by the actions of one of my crew. A fact General Collins seems rather obsessed with."

Waller smirked.

"You really think I am going to hand over a decorated general, just because he tried to kill a few members of your little gang?"

Cold smirked right back.

"Of course not. You misunderstand our intentions. We aren't here to hurt General Collins. We are here to help you prevent a scandal."

"What are you talking about?"

"A little while back, my team was attacked by a meta-human. Now that sort of thing comes with the territory. But this particular meta had a very interesting set of powers. It was almost as though his powers had been designed to fight the Rogues specifically."

Waller just raised an eyebrow, not giving Cold anything.

Cold continued.

"Now, we were able to neutralize the problem without much difficulty. But we like to keep a low profile and constantly having to fight off government created metas is not high on my list of priorities."

"You have proof that General Collins created this meta? You've made a lot of enemies Mr. Snart."

"True. And I looked into every possibility. But ultimately realized it had to be him." Cold tapped his earpiece twice. "And of course, there's this…"

Every screen and monitor in the room went blank. Then the fight between the Rogues and Brick Wall started playing.

"Apparently General Collins wanted to watch us die. So he implanted cameras into the meta's eyes. It took some doing but we were able to locate the source of the feed and download a copy of the video. It seems the General was taking notes, trying to figure out how to best attack us for next time."

Roy hadn't really thought about the fight much in the last few weeks. The aftermath had been the thing he had thought about the most. The fight itself was so inconsequential comparatively. It was something to see it like this, to watch their powers working together. To see the way they watched each other's backs.

To see how they were getting their assess so thoroughly kicked.

Roy watched the meta pick up Cold and throw him to the ground. Roy knew what was coming next. He remembered that part vividly. He had never seen a man blow his own brains out. It had been a hard image to get out of his head.

There was painting in Roy's loft that recreated the scene. Mardon had shook his head and called Roy a morbid son of a bitch when he had seen it.

Roy didn't think it was morbid. Roy needed to get the image out of his head. If it was on a canvas then it was just a painting. For Roy, to have the image out of his head meant that the emotions would now be external as well. He would see the image and feel the same pain and horror he had before. But now they were directed at the canvas instead of his own mind.

Mardon didn't understand and had insisted that Roy at least keep that painting out of view.

"Jesus Roy, if the cops or the Flash ever see it, it's basically a signed confession."

Roy supposed that made sense. So he had put the painting in the corner, behind several of his older works. He always knew which canvas it was, just by the edge of it. He would glance at that particular canvas and for a moment he would be back on the docks, the smell of blood and gunpowder thick in the air. But it was a fleeting thing. It didn't linger the way it had before he had put the memory to canvas.

He could put the painting in the corner and forget about it for days. He knew it was always there, only superficially hidden from view. Knew it would always been there, no matter how far he pushed it away. It was as much a part of his collection as the portrait of his mother.

It was just like every other painting in his collection. It was just another piece of him.

The video stopped just before the final moments of the fight. Roy wondered why Cold had edited that part out. Showing how Roy can kill someone without having to touch them would have reinforced how strong of a group they were. Maybe Cold didn't want ARGUS to have concrete evidence of who killed the meta. In case they ever decided to try and hold someone accountable.

Waller still looked unimpressed.

"We can disavow the General, say he was acting outside…"

"Let's not embarrass ourselves. We both know disavowing him won't be enough. Not when this leaks." A picture of a young man appeared on the screen.

It was a military photo, the young man had the standard crew cut of the military, he was wearing his dress uniform. There was even an American flag in the background.

Roy had seen the photo two weeks ago. It was in a manila folder on the table in the dining room where they were planning the job. Roy had just stopped by the safe house to see if he had left his cellphone there. He had tried to sneak into the safe house. He didn't want to tell Cold that he had lost the burner phone the man had given him only three days prior.

Unfortunately it seemed that everyone was at the safe house at the same time Roy arrived that day.

"Roy? What are you doing here? Thought you said you would be busy today."

Mardon had accosted him as soon as Roy walked through the door. Damn, he had forgotten they would all be here. Some sort of sport thing they had invited him to. He really should have remembered that before he came over here.

"I was just…"

"Roy? Thought you were too busy to hang out with us?" Lisa materialized out of nowhere.

"I was just…"

"Who the hell is at the door?" Mick Rory yelled from farther inside the house. Lisa yelled right back at him.

"It's the Flash, Mick. He's here to watch the hockey game with us. Wanted to know if he needed to go on a beer run first."

"Like that damn kid is old enough to buy beer."

Lisa looped her arm through Roy's.

"Just in time for the game. Didn't know you liked hockey Roy."

Roy was forced to sit through an agonizing 47 minutes and 33 seconds of hockey. Mick, Lisa, and Mardon seemed intent on out yelling each other. Apparently Lisa was rooting for the opposite team. Probably just to annoy the others. Even Cold had thrown in an expletive or two at the referee. Roy tried to follow the game, at least pretend to be interested. He was certain he failed miserably however. He didn't realize he could almost fall asleep in a room full of screaming adults.

During one of the commercial breaks, which Roy was certain consisted only of beer ads, he stood up. He figured he could search the rest of the house under the guise of going to the bathroom. He opened his mouth to give an excuse.

"Cell phone's on the dining room table."

Cold hadn't turned from the TV, hadn't even looked at Roy. But there was smirk on the man's face.

That bastard.

Cold had known the entire time that Roy was here for the cell phone but had forced the man to watch this ridiculous sport for almost an hour. Roy would have to figure out a way to get revenge.

"Right."

His burner phone was sitting on the antique buffet against the wall. The large table in the middle of the room was covered in schematics, notes, photos of employees, and blue prints. Roy only noticed the manila folder because there was nothing written on it. All the other folders were covered in scribbles, hasty notes detailing what was inside. Several of them had crude drawings of Lisa turning her brother into a gold statue.

But this one was clean. Not a single mark on it anywhere. Was it new information? Was there something in it Roy had forgotten to memorize?

He opened the folder. He didn't recognize the man at first. Just another ARGUS employee most likely. But there was something familiar about…

His eyes.

God.

This was the meta they had fought. The one Shawna had named Brick Wall. Except, he still looked human. There was no sign of the…thing he would become. No hint of that pain in the man's eyes.

The pain that Roy had exploited.

That Roy had used to kill him.

What had happened to him? Had….Roy flipped the photo over, there was name printed on the back…Jacob Harris been affected by the particle accelerator? Had General Collins found the meta and exploited him? Or was…

"You going to finish watching the game with us or…"

Roy shoved the photo back into the folder. He turned around quickly. Trying to hide any sign of discomfort. Lisa was staring at him oddly.

"Roy, are you…"

"Fine. I should go. I have…work."

Lisa raised an eyebrow. Roy wished he was a better liar. The work line was obviously not going to convince anyone. The only jobs he pulled anymore were with the Rogues. And he didn't consider painting to be work.

And they all knew it.

Lisa opened her mouth to say something else, her eyes trailing towards the folder behind him.

Roy rushed out of the room.

He was halfway back to his apartment when he realized he had still left the burner phone behind. He thought about turning around, but decided against it. He would get it later. It wasn't important anyway. He got back to his apartment and spent the next few hours painting.

He was taking a step back, trying to judge if the buildings in the background were tilting, when Cold almost gave him a heart attack.

"Jacob Harris died several months ago."

"Jesus! How the hell did you get in here? How long have you been here?"

Roy was embarrassed to think he hadn't heard someone break into his apartment. Sure, Cold was an international thief. But Roy was a thief too. He should at least have some situational awareness when his own apartment was being broken into.

Cold ignored Roy's questions and walked over to the far wall. He started flipping through the canvases leaning there.

"Mardon said you painted the fight."

Cold paused when he found the painting. He pulled it out and looked at it. Roy assumed Cold would say the same thing Mardon had.

"Mark told me to burn it. Said it would be evidence if…."

"There's no need for that. I doubt the military would ever let you be put on trial for that crime. Wouldn't want all their dirty little secrets coming out."

Cold put the painting back where he found it. Roy was suddenly aware that this was the first time Cold had ever been in his apartment.

"Why are you here?"

"Lisa said you found the picture of Jacob Harris. I was planning on…"

"It's fine."

"Really? Now, I'm not much of an artist, but I would say what you're painting right now speaks to a troubled mind."

Roy glanced back at his painting. It was just a man standing in a darkened alleyway, there was no light except that of the half hidden moon. All the lights in the city were out. The man's face was completely covered in shadow. You couldn't see any of the man's facial features, especially not his eyes.

Not that that meant anything.

"It's just a man in an alleyway." It wasn't obviously. But Roy was getting sick of everyone coming into his apartment and talking to him about "the incident." He wasn't some kid who had accidentally killed someone during his first heist. He was a seasoned thief. He had done a few stints in prison. That…thing would have killed him and the rest of the Rogues if it had the chance.

Roy did the only thing that he could do. He did what any of the Rogues would have done. He protected the others. He protected himself.

"I'm not here to lecture you. I'm here to tell you that Jacob Harris will be a large part of our plan against Collins. So I need you to be able to handle seeing his photo."

Cold handed the photo of Harris to Roy.

Roy took the photo, there was only a slight hesitation in his movements.

Cold took a step into Roy's personal space. Maybe it was a Snart thing, a mark of their alpha-ness. Roy looked at the photo. It wasn't as much of a shock this time. It had been more the realization than anything else. The questions about who Harris might have been prior, what his life had been, didn't creep in. Why should he care about a man who tried to kill them?

It was just another photo of a dead man.

"I can handle it."

"Of that I have no doubts." Cold clapped Roy on the shoulder, then walked towards the door. He paused for a moment. "Your first kill isn't something to be taken lightly Roy. No one expected you to bounce back from it quickly. If it hadn't bothered you, then you wouldn't have been the kind of person I would want on my team."

Cold was out the door without another word. Roy stared at the photo a moment longer. He put it down on the couch then headed back to his painting.

Cold never mentioned their meeting, or his pep talk, again. Well, what Roy supposed passed for a pep talk in the villain community. Roy later realized that Cold had dropped the cell phone off on Roy's kitchen table at some point.

Roy saw the photo dozens of times leading up to the job. So when Jacob Harris' face appeared on the screens around them, Roy didn't even flinch.

Not externally at least.

Which was progress.

"Jacob Harris. Twenty-six years old. Husband, father of two small children. According to his official military file, he was killed in action over a year ago. So how is it, that this man became the meta who attacked us? What turned this decorated war hero into this…" A picture of Brick Wall lying on a slab in the morgue was displayed next to the original photo.

"What will the public think of the government turning soldiers into monsters to further their personal vendettas? Now before you cut in and claim we have no proof that Jacob Harris is the same creature that attacked us. You should ask yourself, would we really come all this way, make all these claims, if we didn't have proof? You see, the night we were attacked, the body of the meta was sent to the Central City PD morgue, where a very astute forensic scientist just happened to be. He took dozens of pictures and several blood samples before the body was confiscated by the military. I'm sure the body has been destroyed by now, all the evidence from the CCPD also taken away. Well, I have a slight distrust of the police so I made sure copies of all the evidence collected was taken to a more…secure location. Wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

Waller still had that same unimpressed look on her face, but now Roy could detect a hint of annoyance.

"What do you want?"

"I want General Collins stripped of his rank and title. I want him dishonorably discharged and arrested. You can use whatever charges you like, as long as he spends the rest of his life in prison. It can be a regular prison, it doesn't have to be one of your illegal black sites. I'm not that vindictive."

"And if I refuse? Do you really think that we couldn't have everyone believing these images are faked? Most of the world doesn't know about meta-humans yet. This 'evidence' will end up on conspiracy websites alongside alien dissection photos."

"I suppose that's true. You can discredit the information, make it seem like a bunch of criminals are trying to destroy the reputation of a decorated General. But if you do that Ms. Waller then I'm afraid that would turn you into our enemy. You see, at the moment, our quarrel is only with General Collins. You do what we ask, and that's the end of it. We go back to Central City, and you go back to defending the world from the worst of the worst. But, if you refuse to do what we ask, if you insist on protecting this man, if you try to attack me and mine…Well, let's just say the next time we infiltrate an ARGUS facility, we won't be so conscientious about the lives of your employees."

"I don't respond well to threats Mr. Snart."

"Nor do I, Ms. Waller. Which is why I wanted to do this quickly and quietly. No need for any unpleasantness."

"You really think you and your Rogues can take on the entirety of ARGUS? Of the United States military?"

"Of course not. We would obviously need help. We are criminals after all. We have connections to plenty of people who would be willing to help fight against you. All we would have to do is organize them. Give them information that we possess about how to break into your facilities. Information about where your illegal prisons are. We could start with the one in the North China Sea. And that's not the only one I know about. Believe me Ms. Waller, you have more enemies than I do."

Waller was staring at the Rogues, her facial expression remained unchanged. There was an appraising look in her eyes. Roy got the distinct feeling that she wanted to offer Cold a job. She glanced towards the soldiers around her. She appeared to make her decision.

"General Collins."

"Just him. And you never have to see any of us again."

"Alright…Captain. You have a…"

A loud alarm began to sound. Cold immediately tapped his com.

"Piper?"

"Oh am I allowed to speak now or…"

"Not now kid!"

"It's not me, or us. Surprisingly none of you tripped any alarms when you entered, and no one has done anything stupid in the last 20 minutes. A new record."

Waller was talking to someone on her headset as well.

"What do you mean we are going into quarantine?"

A familiar voice came over the loudspeakers.

"I should have known you would betray me Waller. No loyalty. That's the problem with this whole place. No damn loyalty."

"General Collins…Richard. Please, let's…"

Waller didn't get the chance to reason with the unstable General. A thick white mist began to pour out of the vents. Roy tried to cover his mouth, tried to not breathe in whatever the chemicals were. But it was impossible, most of the people in the room were already coughing.

"I will take care of this myself. Once those criminals are dead, there will be no need to…"

"Shawna get us out of here. Now."

The Rogues grabbed arms, and Shawna held onto them tightly.

Nothing happened.

"I…something's wrong. It's not working." Shawna let go and tried to use her powers. She disappeared, then immediately reappeared only a few steps away.

"Mardon! Clear the room."

Mark put out a hand, attempting to create a cyclone powerful enough to suck the chemicals out of the room.

Roy thought he saw a few pieces of paper move across a desk.

"What the hell…My powers are…"

"Once I realized that trying to send more enhanced humans after you on your turf would be futile, I changed tactics. That's what a good General does. He abandons what doesn't work. He anticipates the actions of his opponents, uses their weaknesses against them. Your powers were contained somehow on that night you were supposed to be taken to an ARGUS black site. I had my best scientists working on…"

Several of the men around them fell to the ground unconscious.

"Of course there are some side-effects to non-enhanced humans. Couldn't have the rest of you interfering."

Waller hit the ground. Mick and Lisa were on their knees. Cold was only still standing purely out of stubbornness.

"Piper. Find an exit…override the…"

"What the hell do you think I've been doing? Unlike some people, I can multi-task. The quarantine…"

"No…override the…"

Cold was unconscious. Roy grabbed him before his head hit the ground.

Damn it. He was so not ready to carry another person.

"Piper! Get us an exit!" Mardon was yelling into his com.

"I'm trying to override the quarantine protocols. It's going to take some time."

"We don't have time."

Suddenly the alarms stopped.

"Piper did you…"

"Again, not me…I think…oh shit. Get out of that room now."

"And go where?"

"There is a squad of men with gas masks heading your way. You need to move now!"

"Damn it. Shawna get Lisa, Roy get Cold. Grab their weapons." Roy winced in sympathy as Mark tried to pull Mick along. That man weighed a solid ton.

They moved as quickly as they could to the nearest hallway. Almost all of the doors around them were sealed shut. They kept moving, from one unidentifiable concrete hallway to the next. Roy was certain they had gone down several flights of stairs. They were on a level now that wasn't on any of the blue prints they had acquired.

Rathaway was constantly in their ears, telling them to keep moving. Telling them that there were men with guns following them. They had yet to see anyone, somehow managing to stay ahead of them. Eventually they had to stop to catch their breath. At least Roy had to, Shawna was breathing hard as well.

Roy tried to determine where they were. It was just another generic hallway. Roy was beginning to think ARGUS wanted people to get lost in here.

They were trapped, the General had them locked inside the ARGUS facility. Shawna's powers would only get them as far as the end of the hallway, and that wouldn't do any of them any good. They were running out of options.

"You're the genius!"

Mark was yelling at Rathaway again. How he managed to run, carry Mick, and yell at the same time Roy would never know. Roy could barely breathe let alone think about talking. Cold, Mick, and Lisa were all still unhelpfully unconscious. As was every other non-meta in the building.

God knows how much time and resources the General had spent on developing a weapon that was apparently designed just to murder the three of them. The General had somehow known they would go to ARGUS instead of after him directly. Had anticipated it, and had planned for it. He was leading them down these hallways, locking any door he didn't want opened. The men with guns kept them moving, kept them from being able to formulate a plan.

Roy managed to get his breathing under control and was able to hear Rathaway's disgruntled and slightly panicked response.

"If you idiots had just let me stay connected, let me see what you guys were up to…"

"Are you getting us out of here or not?"

"I'm trying to see if I can…."

"Stop explaining and just do it!"

Mardon seemed to think that if he just yelled at a problem then it would right itself. Rathaway actually sounded worried. Which couldn't be a good sign, Roy hadn't known the boy could speak in a tone that wasn't sarcastic.

"Look, if you guys can get out to…"

"We can't go anywhere if…"

Several of the doors that had been open slammed shut. There was only one still open.

"What. What is it? The security cameras in that area have gone down. Damn it, this is why I wanted you all to wear cameras, I could…"

"All the doors locked, except for the one that is standing wide open."

"Oh for the love…whatever you do, do not go in that door."

Roy was inclined to agree with Rathaway on this way. It was such an obvious trap.

One of the doors behind them opened. Roy could hear footsteps.

"No choice here boys!" Shawna grabbed Lisa and headed through the only open door. Roy clenched Cold's gun in his hand, and followed suit.

Once they were all inside the door slammed shut behind them.

Mardon pounded on the door.

"You all went into the room didn't you? The one that clearly had TRAP flashing in neon letters above it? What were…"

Rathaway's voice just stopped.

"Piper? What is it?"

"That's not possible…"

"Damn it Rathaway, what the hell is going on?"

"I…the men with the guns. They've left."

There was a moment of silence.

"You want to run that by me again."

"One minute they were on the screens the next minute they were just gone. Like they just turned and left…shit. I don't think they were following you, I think they were herding you. They opened some kind of bolted door…"

"Umm, guys. We have bigger problems." Roy and Mark turned to where Shawna was pointing. They were in another corridor, but this one had no other visible exits. And this one had several large metal doors lining it. Several, very familiar looking doors.

"Is it just me or do those look like prisoner cells?"

Mardon dumped Mick on the floor and then put a hand up.

"Stay here."

He moved slowly towards the doors. They appeared to still be closed. Mardon pulled back the piece of metal that covered a small glass covered hole, and peeked into the first cell.

"Just some chick passed out on the ground."

Roy put Cold down next to Mick and walked towards one of the other cells.

There was a man dressed in a yellow prison jump suit on the floor.

"Is anyone else, like, super creeped out by this?" Shawna was looking over Mardon's shoulder.

"I told you idiots to stay back."

"We…"

Hartley's voice suddenly returned.

"Alright, I don't know why you were herded into that room like proverbial sheep to the slaughter, but luckily for you, my genius knows no limits."

"You know the way out."

"Better. There seems to be a built in system in that area, meant to push knockout gas into the rooms. I have figured out how to reverse the system so that it is filtering any external contaminates."

"You want us to lock ourselves in a cell? How is that an escape plan?" Roy didn't like this idea. Those cells didn't look big enough for all of them to fit into.

"If you would let me finish. Once the air is purified, your powers should return and then Shawna can either poof you out or Mardon can knock down a wall."

"Are you sure once the air is purified our powers will return?"

"I can't be one hundred percent sure obviously. But my guesses are better than most peoples facts so I would suggest you get on of those cells open, because…"

Hartley's voice cut out abruptly.

"Hartley? Piper? What the hell?"

There was a loud screeching noise behind them. The door they had come through sounded like it was being ripped off its hinges. A terrifying sound, considering it was made of solid steel.

"Well that is ominous."

"Shut up Roy. Shawna, get one of these doors open." Mardon walked back towards their unconscious teammates and started dragging Mick towards the cells. Roy followed suit with Cold.

The sound of tearing metal was overwhelming, it seemed to fill every corner of the room.

"Can you hear that? Can you hear the sound of justice making it's way towards you? Another one of my creations. This one is slightly less…human."

General Collins' voice was barely louder than the sound of the metal being ripped apart.

Mark looked around quickly.

"Where are you, you coward? You want a piece of me? Come and get it. What's the matter? Afraid I'll take you down as easily as I took out your son? What was his name again? Not sure I ever learned it to be honest."

Roy wanted to slap the shit out of Mardon.

"Seriously? You're antagonizing him now?"

"Don't you get it Roy, the man's a coward. Has to send an entire army after us to do what he can't. No wonder his son is dead, if he was half the coward his father is."

Roy rubbed his eyes.

"How is this possibly helpful Mark?"

Roy heard Shawna make a small noise.

"Got it."

The metal door behind them was crumpling, whatever was coming for them was coming now.

She pulled open the door and grabbed Lisa. Roy followed suit with Cold. Mark pulled Mick and suddenly all six of them were locked inside the prison cell.

Well, seven if you counted the unconscious prisoner on the ground.

"You think you are safe in there? You will never be safe. I will hunt you to the ends of the earth."

"Seriously dude, just get over it!" Now Shawna was antagonizing the man too. Was he the only one with any sense of self-preservation?

"Get over it? Get over it? Like it was an inconvenience, something I can easily forget? You murdered my son."

"He was a soldier. He died doing his job. What would he have thought of what you did to Jacob Harris?"

"Corporal Harris was a good soldier, he gave his life for his country. He volunteered for the program. You were the ones who killed him. Not me."

"I really don't think you guys are helping the situation."

Roy hated having to be the reasonable one. Now would be a good time for Cold to wake up. He would have a plan for escape in no time. They had no idea what happened to Hartley. He might not even be able to purify the air in the cell. Maybe the General got to him too. They might have locked themselves in this room for nothing.

"You are criminals, you deserved to die. Waller will sweep all this under the rug, and the world will forget all about you. No one will care. You are insects. You are nothing."

Something heavy slammed into the door to the cell. Collins must have created another meta to fight them. At least Roy hoped it was a meta. Anything that could tear through a metal door so quickly would be able to tear through their bones even quicker.

Roy and Mardon pushed their weight against the door. Trying to keep whatever was out there from getting in. Obviously a useless action, but it was a little comforting to have something to do.

"What the hell happened to Hartley?"

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Shawna was looking around, looking for anyway they could escape. They had their weapons still, but if this thing was half as good as Brick Wall had been, their weapons weren't going to do much good.

Roy almost cried in relief when Lisa made a small noise.

"What…"

"Yes! Oh Hartley I don't know if you can hear me but if we get out of this alive, I am going to kiss you on the mouth."

"Barking up the wrong tree there Shawna." Cold was starting to stir, slowly moving to a seated position. Mick sat up in one fluid motion, his eyes open and wild.

"We could use a little help here." Mardon didn't need to explain. The others could now hear the same sounds of tearing metal.

Cold took his weapon from where it had been on the floor and proceeded to freeze the hinges. Before long the entire door was coated in a layer of ice. Roy and Mardon stepped away from the door.

"That's not going to buy us a lot of time. Whatever it is ripped through the steel door in a matter of minutes."

"What happened to Hartley?"

"No idea, General douchebag must be blocking him somehow."

"You think you have stopped anything?"

"Speaking of…"

"It didn't have to be this way Mr. Snart. All you had to do was let me have Mardon. No one else had to die. The death of your entire team is on your head."

"And people think I'm dramatic." Cold turned towards the meta members of the team. "Your powers?"

Mardon lifted his hand, a small cloud appeared. He was concentrating fully on it. It dissipated quickly.

"Not fully back yet."

"Alright. Mardon, reserve your strength. If that thing gets through that door we are going to need you at full power. Shawna…"

"I'm trying…I think I can get all of us out of here. But the only window in this cell is way up there. And unless I can stand on your guys' shoulders there is no way I can look out. If I can't see…"

The ice surrounding the door made a loud cracking noise. Splinters in the ice began to form.

Cold shot the door again.

"Shawna…"

"I can't get us out of here boss man if I can't see the way out. My powers don't work unless I have a clear view."

"You got a cell phone, love?"

The prisoner on the floor was sitting upright with his back against the wall. His arms were draped over his knees. He seemed relatively undisturbed by the fact that there were six people in his cell.

"What?"

"A cell phone. Little square box looking thing? I figure you have a man out on the outside, one who is no longer responding to your calls?"

Cold was assessing the man on the floor.

"We do."

"Ah. Well you see, if the facility goes into lock down, then internal communications automatically trump external ones. They don't want people dying from some terrible disease or…." The man looked towards the frozen door. "…whatever, calling out to their families. Can't have people spilling government secrets in their final moments. Someone must have cut the link completely. There is a way to get around that however. I will just need your cellphone."

"How do you know this?"

"Used to work for ARGUS. Till we had a…disagreement about what constitutes treason. Honestly, they're such sticklers here. No sense of humor."

Cold smirked. He nodded to Shawna.

She handed the man her cell phone.

The prisoner started fiddling with the phone. Lisa peeked over the man's shoulder. Roy didn't know what the man was doing, but within moments he handed it back to Shawna.

"Go ahead then. Give your man a call."

Shawna dialed Hartley's number.

"Shawna? What the hell is going on? I haven't been able to break through ARGUS…"

"Don't worry about it. We had a little…inside help."

"You don't understand. You need to get out of there now. That thing that is attacking the door isn't just attacking it. He is literally melting it."

"Cool." Mick looked like he wanted the creature to break through. Like their deaths would be worth it if he could just see how it was melting the door.

"No. Opposite of that. Half the hallway is on fire. Once he breaks through, assuming he doesn't all eat you or something, you are all going to die of smoke inhalation within a few minutes."

"Shawna…"

"I told you I can't see out of the window…"

"Why does she need to see out a bloody window?"

"Shawna has a certain gift. She can teleport, but only if she can see her destination."

"Oh. Well why don't you just use the video chat on the phone, have your man show you a live video of where you want to go."

The Rogues were silent at the prisoner's suggestion. They all turned and looked at Shawna. Huh. They hadn't thought of that. Well, Cold had mentioned it once when they first joined up, but Shawna had said her powers didn't work like that. Of course she had also thought she could only teleport herself and one other person at a time. They had never tried it before. Shawna had trouble doing large groups in the best of circumstances.

"Can you do that?" Roy was honestly curious now. This might be their only option.

"I…don't know. I've never tried…"

There was a loud crash, the ice encasing the door was beginning to fall to the ground as slush.

"Looks like we are about to find out. Hartley, turn on your video. Shawna…" Cold put his hands on Shawna's shoulders. "You can do this, because you have to do this. Understand?"

"I've never even attempted…."

"It doesn't matter. I don't put my trust in the weak. You will do this."

Shawna took a deep breath.

"Yea…Yea I can do this. Six people at the same time. Piece of cake."

Cold looked at the prisoner.

"Seven."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Appreciate the save mate, though it would be fairly short lived. Got a bomb in the base of my skull. I try to run…" He made an exploding sound and mimicked an explosion with his hands. "Think I'd rather take my chances with door number one."

Cold smirked.

"Well it just so happens that we have a certified genius on our team. I'm sure he will be able to deactivate the bomb before the rest of ARGUS wakes up from their naps."

"Oh I will, will I?" Hartley's voice was slightly muffled. He had the phone propped up, facing the parking lot outside of the van he was parked inside. The van was only a half a mile away. Shawna could do this. Roy didn't want to think about the possible problems that could arise if she couldn't. Or the horrible, horrible ways they could all die. Did that pressing sensation mean they would be squished to death if she lost control? Or would they reappear inside out?

It was a scenario Roy had given considerable thought.

"Yes, you will. What do you say?"

The prisoner smiled.

"Ah what the hell. It was getting boring here anyway. They barely let me do anything fun any more. It's like they don't trust me."

"I can't imagine why. Leonard Snart."

Cold extended a hand.

"Digger Harkness."

"Ok, great. Everyone's making new and interesting friends. Can you idiots get the hell out of there now?"

"Your man's a little high strung eh?"

"He's new. Shawna, time to go."

"Got it. You should all be touching me directly on this one. Don't want anyone to get left behind."

"I'm liking this team already." Harkness put a hand on the small of Shawna's back.

"If your hand goes any lower, I will drop you off a building."

"Yes ma'am."

Shawna concentrated on the image on the screen.

"Here goes nothing."

The sensation of being teleported always made Roy feel like he was going to throw up. This time, when they reappeared by the van, he did.

"You guys look like shit." Hartley was helpful as always.

Thankfully Roy wasn't the only one that threw up. That had been a rough one, Roy's insides felt like they were still being pressed from all sides. Shawna was decidedly looking the worst.

Mick grabbed her arm when she started to sway on her feet.

"I'm…fine…no, no forget that. I'm…" She started breathing heavy.

Cold looked at everyone.

"Everyone here? All body parts accounted for? Good. Mick, take the van with Hartley and Harkness. I'll take Shawna back to the safe house. Everyone else split up into the other vehicles we…"

"This isn't over." The General was speaking over their coms. "I was prepared for an assault. I've been to war before boy, this will be no different. I will make all of you suffer for what you have done."

"Has anyone ever told you, you sound like a super villain? I suppose that would make us the heroes. Just remember, I was willing to let you live. That caveat no longer applies. The next time, we will kill you."

Cold pulled out his earpiece. The rest of the Rogues followed suit. Everyone still looked a little sick.

"Back to the safe house. We need to regroup."

* * *

"We should have just set the place on fire and killed everyone inside."

"That's your solution to everything Mick."

"Doesn't make it the wrong solution Len. Can't help but notice we added a new member today."

"Mick…"

"No, no I get it. You're the boss. The man with the plan. When you said we needed to add a few metas to the team, I agreed with you. Eventually. You were right. They have been helpful."

"And yet?"

"Shawna's powers get us in and out quick. She makes sense. Roy's powers can keep anyone out of our way with just a look, even the cops. He makes sense. Mardon…"

"Mardon's has more raw power…"

"He also has more enemies than the rest of us combined. He's reached a point where he is more trouble than he is worth. If we cut him loose, the Rathaway brat and the new guy can take up his slack. We can even make their cuts smaller since they're new recruits."

"Everyone gets the same cut Mick. And we aren't getting rid of Mardon. We…"

"We don't need him….you don't really think this will work do you?"

"What?"

"This…the Rogues. Sure we've pulled a couple of jobs that have gone off without a hitch. But you act like we are going to stick together through the long run. There are too many assholes on this team for it to work long term. Especially with all your damn rules."

"Are you including yourself as one of the assholes?"

"Of course. I know what I am. And I know what you are Len. People like us aren't meant for teams. Something's going to break. Hell, I'm surprised you and Lisa have managed to stick together this long, all the bad shit between you. Eventually, this is going to all fall apart."

"I'm not an idiot Mick. I don't think we will all still be robbing banks together five years from now."

"Could have fooled me."

"Are you done?"

"Sure. But don't say I didn't warn you, pal."

Cold left the room. Mick sat at the dining room table. He flicked a lighter absently.

Mick snorted into his beer.

The Rogues.

Damn fantasy is what it was.

No group of criminals sticks together. Eventually someone gets greedy. Or someone gets stupid. Then they'll all turn on each other. Mick would place his bets on that Hartley kid. He hadn't ever been to prison. The cops push him hard, and he'll be singing.

Of course, Lisa might betray them just to get back at her brother for some dumbass slight from when they were kids. Or Mardon might just say screw it and go for his revenge. Kill a bunch of cops and have the entire city after him. The new guy, Harkness, he didn't have any loyalty to anyone as far as Mick could tell. Running was in Shawna's DNA so much that it was her power. She might get scared and just make a break for it. Leave them all behind without a word. One day, someone might offer Roy enough money to turn them on each other, make them all kill each other one fine Sunday afternoon. Starving artists always had bills to pay after all.

Mick didn't leave himself off of that list either. Someday the desire to burn the entire city to the ground, to watch it all just float away in the ashes, might be too hard to ignore. He would start with something simple, like the safe house. He might forget to warn anyone still inside. He might kill them all without even wanting to.

Sure, the Rogues were a good team. One of the best he had been on. But all this 'all for one and one for all' nonsense was going to go right out the window someday soon.

Mick didn't think he would be the first to betray them. Hell, he might even put in a little extra effort to make sure it wasn't him. Not like he would have to wait very long. The others might not see the cracks starting to form, but Mick could see them plain as he could see the light from a flame.

Eventually, everything would be revealed.

No one can ignore who they really are forever.

And what they were, were ruthless, selfish criminals. Not even Cold's iron will could keep a group like them together for long. Something would happen. Something soon.

Mick closed the lighter and put it back in his pocket. He wouldn't give in today.

But he didn't know about tomorrow.

* * *

A/N: This one took me a little longer, mainly because I spent a good amount of time arguing with myself about whether or not to add Boomerang to the group. He somehow managed to finagle his way in. And because I originally thought this story was going to have 3 chapters max, but here we are.


	6. Chapter 6

There was someone knocking on Roy's door. A loud pounding noise, signaling he would get no more sleep tonight.

Seriously? How many times was a drunk Rogue going to wake him up in the middle…

"Central City PD! Open the door!"

Roy was out of bed in an instant. His still drowsy mind producing only one thought.

Escape.

He made a beeline for the window by his bed. Lights flashed in the distance, illuminating the alleyway with strange dancing shadows. He started to pull the window open when he heard the front door being broken down. He flung himself onto the fire escape. He hissed when his bare feet hit the cold metal. He wasn't even wearing any damn shoes.

How the hell did the cops find out where he lived? He was usually so careful. Of course, he usually didn't tell other criminals where he lived. And Mardon could be rather loud when he drank. He had left his cellphone on the night stand. He had no way of contacting the others, no way of knowing if they…

"Stop! Put your hands in the air!"

Roy didn't stop. He kept moving down the fire escape as quickly as possible, without falling to his death. That would be his luck. Slip and break his neck trying to escape. It had been instinct to run. To get out. He slowed down, all he had to do was use his powers and he could make an easy get away. He could saunter down the fire escape without the risk of slipping to his death. He looked behind him. The two cops following him were both wearing some kind of specialized glasses. Glasses, with very dark and reflective lenses.

Shit.

This wasn't just some lucky find. The cops were specifically after him. He could make one guess as to where the cops had gotten those glasses. Even when the Flash wasn't there, his STAR lab buddies were making the Rogues lives more difficult. Roy hit the ground and started running down the alleyway. If he could just…

"Freeze!" Four cops appeared in front of him. Each of them pointing their guns directly at him. Each of them wearing the same specialized reflective glasses. Roy absently wondered how good their night vision was with those things on. Roy was used to the shadowed world they must now be seeing. He had a brief thought of just making a run for it, hoping that they wouldn't be able to shoot him in the back with their vision hindered

Roy sighed and put his hands in the air.

"Is there a problem officers?" Roy hoped is voice portrayed the right amount of contempt.

"Do not move!"

Roy wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't want to provoke the cops too much. Cold had said the best thing to do if you got arrested was to just let them take you. Don't give them a reason to shoot. Go quietly and wait. The others would break him out in no time. This was an inconvenience at best. Still, he had liked that apartment. It was going to be a hassle trying to find another one. And he seriously hoped none of the cops messed with any of his paintings. He should probably look into storing his paintings somewhere more secure, for moments like this.

The two cops who had followed him down the fire escape came up behind him. Their guns trained on him as well.

"Down on the ground. Now!"

The ground was wet. But it hadn't rained in a few days. He just hoped that whatever the mystery liquid was, it wasn't some kind of bodily fluid. He sighed dramatically and lowered himself down onto his knees. The liquid soaked through his pajama pants quickly. He was going to need a shower after this was done.

One of the cops began to handcuff him. Another grabbed him by the back of the neck. What the hell was he…

A blindfold was shoved over his eyes.

Ah.

Extra precautions then. Still, that was rather rude. They could have just asked him. Roy was forcibly pulled to his feet.

It was a bit disorienting, being pulled and pushed around without being able to see where he was heading. His feet seemed to find every rock and stone in the world. He really wished he had some shoes on. It's one thing to get arrested. It's another to be arrested barefoot and in your pajamas.

He was forced into the back of a cop car. The ride was made in silence. The cops didn't make any attempt to speak with him. He wondered why that was. In his experience, cops liked to brag when they made a big collar. Or they chatted in the front seat like you weren't even there. They clearly knew who he was, and what he could do. So why the silence?

"Either of you gentlemen want to turn on the radio? At least I assume you are both gentlemen, which is probably a little sexist of me."

Still nothing. No sound that they had even heard him. Either they were the most serious police officers on the entire force. Or…maybe they didn't know all the details about his powers. People did tend to exaggerate the truth. Maybe all they knew is that he could influence people. Make them do things. Did they think talking to him would put them under his power?

That was ridiculous, he wasn't a damn hypnotist. Roy sighed and leaned back in his seat. He got the feeling this was going to be a long night. Hopefully the others could get to him before he died of boredom.

Roy's feet hurt a bit. Who knows what he had stepped on in that alley. There could have been broken glass or used syringes. It was possible he had contracted multiple diseases tonight. Perhaps he could sue the police department. Forcing him to walk barefoot through grime and disease had to be against his civil rights.

He hoped the others had fared better than he had. If they had been targeted as well that is. Had the Flash been involved in capturing the others? That would make sense as to why he wasn't there to collect Roy. Obviously, the Flash would have gone after Mark. The cops wouldn't risk the lives of their officers against someone with so much raw power and such a complete and utter hatred of them. Even with the Flash, there was no way they could have gotten all of the Rogues in a single night.

Roy frowned. He was not looking forward to the teasing he would be forced to endure if he was the only one who got arrested. Lisa would be especially unbearable.

The car stopped and Roy was pulled out. He could barely keep his balance as he was pulled up the steps leading to the precinct.

The next thing he knew he was handcuffed to a chair. Clearly an interrogation room. Roy didn't need to be able to see to know exactly what the room looked like. Every interrogation room he had been in had the same metal table, the same metal chairs, and the same two-way mirror.

Roy sighed again. He was already over this. He hoped Cold and the others came to get him soon. Although it could be hours or days until they came for him, depending on which plan they went with. Cold might want to wait until the cops transported Roy elsewhere. Easier to hit a single truck than an entire precinct. Roy supposed he would just have to make himself as comfortable as possible and…

The door to the room opened.

"Roy Bivolo, or do you prefer to be called Rainbow Raider?"

Roy tilted his head towards the voice. It sounded like only one person had entered the room.

"I suppose that is your preference…."

"Detective West. I'm going to ask you a few questions."

"By all means, I've got no where else to be at the moment."

The detective sat down in the chair across from Roy.

"You are hardly the first criminal to make that joke. You know, you are awfully calm for a guy who just got yanked out of bed. Especially considering the charges against you."

Roy kept his features blank. Lisa had been teaching him how to better conceal his emotions. Hopefully the detective couldn't see Roy's confusion. The detective was making it sound like Roy was being charged with murder. The last thing they had solid evidence on was robbing that bank before the pipeline. And he hadn't used a weapon then, so it would just be a robbery charge. A couple years, max. Not that Roy was going to do any time.

"Oh?"

Roy heard the detective open a file. Several pieces of paper were moved across the table. Roy raised an eyebrow.

"If you are going to present me with some sort of damning evidence, perhaps you would be so kind as to remove the blindfold."

"Not a chance."

"Really? So many of your brethren in blue were wearing some interesting glasses when they arrested me. I would assume you, and whomever is watching through the glass, is wearing a pair as well."

"I am. But let's just say, I've learned to be cautious in these situations."

"Caution is one thing. This feels like overkill. Tell me detective, does the thought of feeling a certain emotion scare you?"

The detective laughed.

"You think I'm scared of you?"

Roy shrugged.

"Why else are you doing all this?"

"Because you are a dangerous criminal. One who deserves to be locked up for what he's done. The CCPD was contacted by an anonymous source, claiming to have evidence linking you to a homicide. The murder of a soldier by the name of Jacob Harris."

Roy was aware that the detective would be scrutinizing him now. Looking for any outward signs of guilt. The blindfold might actually be working to Roy's advantage at the moment. Roy kept his tone polite. Almost mocking.

"Really? And how exactly did I commit this murder?"

"You know how."

Roy smirked. This is where Roy had the advantage. No jury, or judge, in the world would believe the detective. Would believe that a man could manipulate the emotions of others just by looking at them.

"No detective, I don't. Explain it to me. I want to you to say, on the record, exactly how I killed this man. What argument are you going to present to a jury of my peers?

"You used your meta-human abilities to manipulate the man's emotions until he committed suicide."

Roy's smirk dropped. Well. That was unexpected. He could hear a tinge of laughter in the detective's voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that's right. You haven't been arrested in awhile. The last time we came after you, metas were still a secret. Things have changed recently. Including a few new laws on the books. Laws that state that humans with enhanced abilities will be subjected to the same rules that govern any other criminal. You use your abilities to break the law, and you will be punished."

Roy tried to ignore the pounding in his chest. A surge of anger coursed through him. This…the detective's voice was so self-righteous. So smug. Roy knew that Detective West had been present during the prison transfer. Knew he was a part of the Flash's little gang. Roy's response was little more than an angry hiss

"As I recall, I _was_ punished for using my powers. Illegally if I recall. I'm fairly certain kidnapping and holding someone prisoner without a trial is still illegal. Has everyone been made to pay for using their powers in a way that puts them outside of the law? Or does this just apply to the metas you don't like, and not the ones that run around in a red costume."

The detective ignored Roy's questions.

"You aren't the first meta to be tried under the new laws. Once we prove you were responsible for this man's murder, you will spend the rest of your life locked up. We know you did this, and somehow you stole evidence related to the crime. But with this new witness, we have all the proof we need. "

Roy almost blurted out that it was self-defense. He managed to stop himself in time. He needed to stay calm, to get his anger under control. He needed to…shit. The painting in his loft. Mardon had been right. Once they found that, he was completely screwed.

"I'm surprised you hadn't heard about the changes to the law. Being a criminal and all, I assumed you would have kept up on it."

"I must have missed that edition of Meta Criminals Weekly. I'll have to complain to my postal carrier."

The detective laughed again.

"You keep that sense of humor Roy. You're going to need it where you're going."

Roy knew the others would come and get him. Knew they wouldn't let him rot in a cell for the rest of his life. But still, his hands began to sweat. The thought of being trapped in the pipeline for any length of time still rattled Roy. More than he liked to admit. Roy kept his voice as even as possible.

"I want a lawyer. Or do metas not have that right yet?"

Detective West's chair scraped the ground as he stood up.

"Of course. I'll get you that lawyer. But you should consider something while you wait. We know you haven't been working alone these past few months. Maybe it's time you looked at all of your options here…Raider."

Roy snorted. They wanted him to make a deal? Betray the others and he could have his freedom? These idiots didn't know anything. Loyalty was what was going to get him out of here. But then again, cops didn't understand concepts like loyalty. Roy didn't say anything as the detective closed the door behind him.

Roy wasn't sure how much time passed before the door opened again. It couldn't have been more than an hour. He had been starting to fall asleep. Being blindfolded and handcuffed to a chair was actually quite boring. Not nearly as exciting as movies and tv shows would have you believe. Not to mention that both of his hands were asleep. That was irritating on it's own.

He heard someone walk into the room. His lawyer no doubt. Roy tried to sit up a little straighter. He wondered if the lawyer had any experience in defending meta humans. Not that it mattered really. Roy was never going to see a trial. Still he liked to think they would at least provide him with a decent…

Roy's head was jerked back as the blindfold was pulled off. Roy blinked a few times at the sudden influx of fluorescent light. Did this lawyer not know…

"You're not lawyers."

There were two uniformed police officers standing in the room with Roy. One of them was wearing the specialized glasses that reflected Roy's powers. The other wasn't. Neither of the cops said a word. They just stood there and stared at him.

Roy looked towards the door. It was slightly ajar. This…there was no way this was one of Cold's escape plans. Roy had seen most of them, even memorized the ones he would be involved in, and none of them, no matter how dire the situation, involved trusting cops. Leonard Snart would never even consider a plan that relied on the police. No matter how much he paid them.

It looked like Roy was supposed to just get up and walk out the door. The cops could claim one was under his influence and the other had to subdue his affected partner. And then what? Turn the entire precinct on itself as he ran for the door? There were too many variables. Too many things that could go wrong.

This wasn't Cold. This was something else entirely. One of the cops unlocked the handcuffs. Roy rubbed his hands, trying to quickly get the feeling back. The cops continued to just stare at him. Finally one seemed to get annoyed.

"What are you waiting for?"

They wanted him to use his powers on them. At least on the one that wasn't wearing the shades. If he did that, then the other one would have a reason to shoot him. Hell, he might not even need to do anything. They could shoot him and say it was because of Roy's rage powers. They had no control over their actions, they couldn't be held accountable.

Someone wanted Roy to die in this police station. Someone who knew the Rogues would break him out eventually. So they sent a couple of cops to kill him before the Rogues could get to him. Roy could guess at who was behind all this.

Roy glanced at the door again. There was no way he could make it before one of the cops shot him in the back. The officers looked nervous. They had expected him to try to run for it. Their hands were hovering over their weapons. How much had the General paid them to kill him?

How the hell was the General even doing this? He was supposed to be on the run, hunted by ARGUS. That's what Harkness' contacts had told him. The General was blacklisted. All of his accounts had been frozen, the man should be hiding in a hole somewhere, not planning out elaborate ways to get each of the Rogues on their own and have them killed one by one.

Roy knew his time was running out. Eventually the cops would just shoot him. There was only one course of action here.

"Help! I'm being attacked. Help m…"

The first officer slammed a fist into Roy's jaw, while the other quickly closed the door and dragged a chair in front of it. Roy could taste blood. That first hit had been unexpected. The second blow landed in his stomach, knocking him to the floor. The cop grabbed Roy's hair and forced the blindfold back over Roy's eyes. He then proceeded to slam his baton down onto Roy's shoulder. Roy thought he heard something pop or crack. It was difficult to tell over his screams.

"What the hell Johns?"

"Rage right? We have to make it look like we weren't in control."

Johns pulled Roy to his feet and landed several blows to Roy's ribs. Roy couldn't see the hits coming, so he had no way of protecting himself. No way of knowing where the next one was going to come from. The first blow to his jaw had dazed him, his mind not quick enough to tell his body to put up some kind of defense.

"What the hell are you waiting for? Get over here and get some hits in. You knew what we had to do. This is all your damn fault anyway. If we had just gotten to him in the apartment like we planned…"

"What if…"

There was a loud banging at the door.

"What the hell is going on in there?"

Roy tried to yell out, but suddenly found himself in a chokehold. He could barely breathe let alone cry out for help.

"The blindfold, they'll see it and…"

"We take it off before they get in here. No one will ever know. Once that door opens, you attack whoever comes through. Don't stop until…"

Roy tried to fight back, tried to grab at his attacker. Tried to beat back the man who was going to kill him. But the bastard wouldn't give an inch. His arms just kept getting tighter around Roy's throat.

Roy heard a loud crashing noise and the weight around his neck and chest lifted almost instantly. Roy felt that familiar gust of wind. Roy was starting to get annoyed by how often the Flash saved his life. Well, maybe he would be annoyed later, when he wasn't struggling to breathe.

How did the kid get here so fast? Was he just hanging around the police station? Maybe he had heard one of the Rogues had been arrested and wanted to gloat.

Roy coughed and then reached up and pulled off the blindfold. The Flash had both the officers handcuffed and sitting against the opposite wall. The Flash turned and looked at Roy. The kid looked angry. Roy tried to move but it only caused him to start coughing again.

Oh.

That…

That was a lot of blood. Roy felt a moment of pity for whoever had to clean the floors in here.

Detective West rushed into the room, still wearing his protective shades. But now he also carried the light array. The Flash put up a hand.

"No need Detective. These men aren't under Bivolo's influence."

"What? How do you…"

"Because he was still blindfolded when I entered."

West finally turned his attention towards Roy. He seemed to realize how beaten up Roy looked. Roy tried to move again, but a sharp pain laced up his side and he decided that the floor was fine. He would just lay here in fetal position until he stopped coughing up blood. Maybe he would just lay here forever.

"Medic! We need a medic in here!"

Detective West bent down beside Roy.

"Jesus…"

Roy felt like he should make a smartass comment, maybe something about suing the department. But the coughing just wouldn't stop. It was making it a bit difficult to breathe actually.

"Damn it. What the hell happened in here? Johns, Garcia?" Detective West was looking at the officers on the ground. He kept one hand on Roy's shoulder. The Flash was still standing over them. Johns was the first to speak.

"Bivolo used his powers on Garcia. I managed to get the blindfold back on Bivolo before he could control me. But Garcia kept attacking him. I pulled Garcia off of Bivolo and attempted to subdue the criminal by using a chokehold. He released Garcia from his control and as I was about to let go of him, the Flash entered."

It was a reasonable story. Even Roy could believe it. Definitely enough for the cops to be able to sweep this all under the rug. Detective West stood up and two medics took his place.

"What the hell were you two doing in here in the first place? And how did the blindfold come off?"

"He was out of his handcuffs when we entered, he could have removed it afterwards. We thought we heard voices and a struggle as we passed by the door. You had mentioned that he had partners that might attempt an escape. We were just checking out suspicious activity."

Officer Johns had an answer for everything. And they all sounded so reasonable. No reason to doubt the man's word.

"That true Garcia?"

"Yes sir. We shouldn't have entered the room without more back up. It was a rookie mistake sir."

The Flash took a step towards the men on the ground.

"Why didn't either of you call for help?"

"There was no time. I was too busy trying to subdue both Garcia and Bivolo."

"So, neither of you yelled for help only moments before the door closed?"

Johns hesitated. The Flash continued to press them for answers.

"Because someone heard a voice yell out for help. Saying they were being attacked. And this witness claims the voice belonged to Bivolo."

Both officers kept their mouths shut. Neither willing to say anything that could incriminate them. Roy was surprised the Flash hadn't just believed their stories. Why would he doubt what the cops told him?

"Why were you really in here? Did someone pay you…."

Garcia was the one who broke first. His voice was high pitched and panicked.

"It was Johns' idea. He said we would never get caught, that no one would care if…"

"Shut your goddamn mouth Garcia."

"Who paid you to do this?"

"I don't know the man's name. We were contacted by this low-level drug dealer, works up on 6th avenue. Just told us his boss would pay handsomely to kill him. Said it was a message to all the freaks in the city. That they had to pay, that they didn't belong in Central."

Huh. That didn't sound like Collins. The man would have used his own name. Would have wanted to make sure the Rogues knew exactly who was responsible. Finally Roy's addled mind latched on to a word.

Drug dealer.

Did this have something to do with Rickard Jones? Payback for destroying his shipment? They hadn't heard anything from Jones in months. The man had never attempted to retaliate against them. Cold had too many connections with the mob families. Jones wasn't stupid, he wouldn't go after them without allies. So why was he doing this now? What had changed?

The medics finished loading Roy onto the gurney. They started to wheel him out the door.

"We have to take him to the hospital. He could have internal bleeding."

Detective West followed the gurney.

"I'll come with you."

The detective removed his shades and put them on Roy. It made everything dark, but at least Roy could see if someone else tried to kill him. Better than being blindfolded he supposed.

The medics looked at the detective curiously.

"I'll explain on the way."

The Flash looked at Roy, there was something unreadable in the hero's eyes.

"I'll join you at the hospital in a little bit. I want to have a few more words with these…men."

Roy knew the Flash was talking to the detective. But Roy gave the Flash a small wave anyway.

The next few hours were a blur of doctors and pain and being poked and prodded. Detective West kept guard the entire time. Eventually all the tests had been run and all of Roy's wounds treated. It was just Roy and Detective West in the hospital room now.

Roy was handcuffed to the bed, and he was still wearing the shades West had put on him. But at least now he had some drugs in his system to deal with the pain. A few cracked ribs, a dislocated left shoulder, and dozens of bruises. But thankfully no internal bleeding. The first hit to his jaw had caused his teeth to slice open his cheek. So he had several stitches in there. Explained why he had kept spitting up blood. His throat felt fine now. Mick had strangled him harder than Johns.

"So. It sounds like you guys have a lot of enemies." Roy rolled his eyes at Detective West's casual tone.

"I always knew the cops were the enemy. Just didn't think you would be so brazen about it."

Detective West opened his mouth, no doubt to give some self-righteous speech about good guys and bad guys. About how there was difference between criminals and cops. But the man never got the chance.

One minute it was just the two of them, and then in an instant Cold and Shawna were in the room. Cold appeared with his weapon drawn and aimed directly at Detective West.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Cold's voice was like venom. It was a tone usually reserved for those who were stupid enough to touch Lisa. This was not the mocking tone of Captain Cold. This was the tone of a highly skilled, and incredibly angry professional criminal.

West took his hand off of his gun.

"Snart…"

"You know, I really didn't think my opinion of cops could be any lower. But you have truly managed to outdo yourselves this time. Acting as assassins for drug dealers. Tell me, do they teach the best way to take bribes at the academy? Or is that more of an on the job learning experience?"

"The officers who…"

"Have already been arrested, yes I am aware. You had better make damn sure those charges stick Detective."

"Or what?"

"Or the next time one of your people gets out of line, I'll let Mardon exact whatever revenge he feels is necessary. You don't know how much of a fight it was to keep him from just wiping out your entire precinct with a tornado this morning. If those cops don't get the punishment they deserve from you, they will get it from us."

Cold's voice was sharp and precise. He meant every word he spoke. You could hear the promise in his words.

Shawna removed the cuffs from Roy's hand and helped him stand up.

"Nice scrubs."

"Are they pink or something?"  
"No, a nice shade of green. You're just lucky they didn't put you in one of the gowns."

"They ruined my pjs, cut them off."

"Don't worry about it Roy. We will get you some new ones."

Cold hadn't moved an inch. His entire body was rigid. He was staring at West with outright hatred. For a moment, Roy thought Cold might kill the man. Finally, Cold's posture relaxed a fraction of an inch.

"This anonymous tip you received. The one that told you exactly where Roy lived. Who gave it to you?"

"It was anonymous…"

"Bullshit."

"I'm not going to tell you a name so that you can go off an start a war."

"We are already at war, Detective. You just happen to be on the wrong side."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means, I don't lose. And that tip you received, was from Rickard Jones. The same man who paid those cops to kill Roy. The police are nothing more than hired guns for a drug dealer. He is using your department to get to us."

"You don't know that…"

"I do. I make it my business to know. Half of the cops in the CCPD can be bought. I know that from experience. How do you think we knew what hospital room you were both in?"

"Your department is full of dirty cops. I am going to give you one chance to clean it up. To find those responsible and have them punished. Get rid of all the cops that work for Jones, and make damn sure nothing like this happens again. Because if it does, then our deal with the Flash will be over."

Cold lowered his weapon and took a few steps towards Shawna and Roy. He spared a last glance at West.

"Clean out your house Detective. Or I will send Mardon to do it for you."

Shawna teleported them out of the hospital. A few quick jumps later and they were back at the safe house. Roy lowered himself down onto the couch. He didn't think he could make it to one of the bedrooms. The place seemed unusually quiet.

"Where are the others?"

"Taking care of some business. I'll go check on them. Shawna, stay with Roy."

Cold walked out of the room. Shawna walked into the kitchen.

"Tea?"

"Yes. What business are the others on?"

"Oh you know, trying to steal some evidence from the cops. Oh! We managed to grab most of your paintings out of your apartment before the cops were able to put them into evidence."

Roy hadn't considered that the others would do that.

"Thank you."

"They're stacked in one of the bedrooms in the back. Looks like you'll be staying here until you find a new place. Grabbing the paintings was Hartley's idea actually."

"Really."

"Yea, he had some kind of device that put the cops guarding your loft to sleep. I guess he isn't completely useless."

Roy smirked. That was high praise.

"He grows on you."

"I guess."

Shawna brought Roy the cup of tea. He took it with one hand. His left arm was in a sling again. This was getting old. He didn't remember getting injured this much before joining the Rogues.

"Harkness go with them?"

"Yea, although he didn't seem too happy about it. Only agreed to go if he could be on the same team as Lisa. Dude's a bit of a creeper. Don't know if he will stick around after he repays Cold. Doesn't seem like a team player."

"I'm not sure I would say that about any of us."

Shawna smiled at that.

Cold re-entered the room.

"The others are on their way back." There was still this anger radiating off of the normally calm and composed leader. Something about this had triggered something in Cold. He looked like he wanted to fight. No, he looked like he wanted to kill.

Shawna and Roy shared a glance. Someone needed to calm the man down. Lisa was the obvious choice, but she wasn't here at the moment.

Shawna stood up quickly.

"Well I should go check the…" She disappeared without finishing the sentence.

Traitor.

Cold looked at Roy. He walked over and angrily ripped the shades off of Roy's face. Cold threw them on the ground and crushed them beneath his heel. Roy had forgotten he was even wearing them.

"Lisa's going to make you clean that up."

Cold didn't respond to Roy's words. After a few moments, he looked up at Roy. It felt like the man was memorizing every bruise on Roy's face. Roy was beginning to feel uncomfortable under the man's unwavering gaze. Roy really wanted the silence to stop.

"I thought we didn't kill cops."

"Exceptions can be made."

"I'm not sure the Flash will see it that way."

"Too bad."

Roy sighed. Honestly, sometimes Cold could act like a child.

"I suppose the Flash did save my life though, I thought…"

The door to the house opened and the sound of several sets of footsteps could be heard. The rest of the Rogues poured into the living room. Mardon came to a dead stop when he saw Roy.

"I'll kill them."

"Mardon."

"No. Screw this Cold. Look at him!"

"I said no."

"I don't give a damn what you said. We are supposed to keep letting our enemies get away with attacking us like this? This no kill policy of yours has made them think we are weak. If we had just gone to kill that General instead of your ridiculous plan…"

"Then we wouldn't have the pleasure of Mr. Harkness' company." Cold deliberately turned away from Mardon. "How did your first job go?"

If Harkness was aware of the tension in the room, he ignored it.

"Easy, I pulled harder jobs when I was fifteen."

"Good. And the evidence?"

"All wrapped up. I can have it to some very unsavory characters within the hour."

"Hold off on that. I want to see how the cops react to what happened."

Mardon cut in with a disgusted noise.

"Why, so you can make a plan where we all hold hands and do nothing?"

"So I can decide if we are going to only take out a few people or kill the entire department. Such a thing requires planning if we don't want the Flash to stop us."

Hartley looked slightly nervous. Hell, Roy felt nervous about killing so many people. Especially so many cops. He shared the kid's concern.

"What happened to keeping a low profile? Killing an entire police department seems to be the opposite of that."

"We tried to keep a low profile and all its done is gained us more enemies. No. Mardon's right. We need to let our enemies know that we mean business. Whether or not that means killing cops or just Jones, will depend on several factors. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to look over that evidence you stole."

Cold left the room. Lisa watched her brother leave with an odd expression.

"I suppose I should go make sure he doesn't run off and kill any cops without us. I think we all deserve to be there for that."

Lisa threw a wink at Roy and then walked out of the room.

Mardon sat down on the couch next to Roy. Hartley and Mick sat at the table near the kitchen. Harkness was rummaging through the cabinets.

"You lot got any alcohol in this place?"

"Third cabinet on your left." Mick had pulled out his weapon and was cleaning it on the table.

Harkness made a laugh of victory when he found the booze.

"See that's what I'm talking about. Anybody else want to get completely sloshed?"

A drink actually sounded good at the moment.

"I'll take one."

"There's a good man. Nothing better after a beating than a good bottle of whiskey."

Mick didn't look up from his gun, but Harkness poured him a drink anyway. He deliberately yanked the bottle in front of Hartley's face.

"And none for the kid. Can't be seen corrupting today's youth."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a dick?"

"Constantly, it's a part of my charm."

"Charm? Is that what you are calling it? I would call it severe narcissism, not to mention several other mental..."

"Aww, starting to get a little cranky mate? Sounds like someone was out past his bedtime."

"I have more PhDs than you have brain cells…"

"I can't help but notice that I still don't have a drink." Roy decided to interrupt the building argument.

This wasn't the first fight between Hartley and Digger. The older man seemed to delight in antagonizing the younger one. So far, none of the others had intervened. No one really had a good read on either of the two newcomers yet. Best to wait and see what the fights revealed about the two men.

"See that Hart? You're depriving the poor man of his liquor. Stop being so selfish." Digger brushed past the sputtering Hartley and handed Roy a shot of whiskey. Digger held up his own.

"A toast. To a good day."

"Roy got his ass kicked, how is that a good day?"

"Still alive isn't he? Makes it a good day in my opinion."

Roy returned Digger's salute and downed the shot.

"How about you mate? A bit of liquor to calm you down?"

Mardon didn't respond, he just stood up quickly and left the room. Hartley threw a contemptuous look at Harkness.

"Looks like your 'charm' really does work. I'm sorry to have ever doubted you."

"What's his problem?" Digger effortlessly sat down in Mardon's vacated spot. He also seemed to lack any concept of personal boundaries. He leaned into Roy's space and poured him another shot.

Roy watched Mardon as he left the room.

"Hates cops."

"Who doesn't?"

"I think he's getting a little tired of not being able to get his aggression out. We are probably in for some bad weather tonight."

Mick gave a grunt of discontent.

"He had better not make it snow again. Damn blizzard lasted two weeks before he got out of that mood."

"You serious? His moods affect the weather? And here I thought Hartley was a prissy little thing."

Hartley just rolled his eyes and took off his gauntlets. Mick handed him a screwdriver without looking up from his own gun. Roy glanced to the weapons Digger had on him.

"Shouldn't you look over your…boomerangs?"

"Nah. They're fine."

"Because he didn't do anything. Just sat on the sidelines while we did the heavy lifting."

"Didn't want to run in there and mess up the team dynamic, did I? It's called strategy son. They'll teach it to you when you're old enough."

"It's called being a…"

"Can you two stop for a moment, the whiskey hasn't helped my headache yet."

Hartley looked slightly repentant, but Digger just smiled wider.

"Well that just means you need to drink more my friend."

He clinked their glasses and they both did another shot. Soon, the alcohol had the desired effect, the aches started to fade. Roy had a momentary thought that he probably shouldn't be drinking since he still had pain killers in his system. But it had been a shitty day, so screw it.

There was something happening here. Something with the Rogues that felt…off. Roy couldn't put his finger on it exactly. The tension between certain members wasn't going away like it normally did. It was starting to linger. It felt like they were headed for…something. Roy took another shot of whiskey.

He was certain he was imagining it. His brain was still a little shaken from earlier. If there was a problem, Cold would know how to deal with it. Roy leaned back on the couch.

He would just worry about himself for now. The others were capable of taking care of themselves.

* * *

Roy was a fun drunk. Digger appreciated that in a teammate. So many people got so serious when they drank. Got all mopey and started thinking about the past, about their mistakes. Made them boring as hell to be around. Not Roy though. Drunk as he was, all he wanted to do was paint a mural on the ceiling.

Which Digger wholeheartedly encouraged. He really just wanted to see how long it would take the inebriated artist to realize his arm was in a sling. Which would make the logistics a bit complicated. Not undoable though.

"What about, we get two ladders, and then we put a board between them? Then you could just lay down on them and paint the ceiling."

"Like Michealango?"

"Sure."

Hartley gave Digger a glare. Boy had been trying to talk Roy out of stacking furniture on top of another. Actually seemed to be making headway too. Til Digger started giving Roy suggestions.

"That would work. See. Digger gets it."

Hartley rolled his eyes. Boy seemed to do that a lot.

"Digger wants to see you roll off the ladder and break your neck."

"Oi. I'm offended by that. I only have Roy's best interests at heart." Digger slung an arm over Roy's uninjured shoulder. "Man's an artist, needs to express himself doesn't he? You wouldn't understand Hart, not being an artist and all."

Hartley constantly looked like he wanted to kill Digger. Which only made it more fun. The boy was far too uptight. Couldn't see the humor in anything. Well, it would just have to be Digger's job to show the kid. Whether he wanted the lessons or not.

Kid was going to die of a stroke before he was thirty if he kept this up. Digger was really doing him a favor, trying to get him to loosen up. Too bad the kid couldn't understand that, couldn't see Digger's jabs were all in good fun.

Hartley pushed Digger's arm off of Roy.

"Shut the hell up Digger. Come on Roy, you've had a long day. The fact that you have been drinking so close to when you were given painkillers, only proves how none of you seem to grasp even the most basic of biological principles. Let's get you to bed before one of us has to explain to Cold why we had to take you back to the hospital."

"But the ceiling…"

"Will still be there tomorrow. You have ten seconds to move or I will put you to sleep right here." Hartley raised the device he had used earlier to put the guards outside Roy's apartment to sleep. Looked like some kind of flute. Digger smiled wider.

"Just keep talking Hart. That will put him right out."

The kid ignored him as he walked Roy out of the room. These Rogues were a touchy lot. Digger sat down at the table across from Mick. The man didn't look up, didn't make any indication he knew Digger was there. Just kept working on his gun. He might have grunted once, which Digger took to mean he wanted another drink. So Digger refilled the man's glass with the whiskey.

Digger wasn't one for sitting in silence.

"So what's with old man winter? Seemed a mite pissed. Considering Roy's still alive. Mardon too. Act like they never been roughed up by the cops before."

"Family history."

Digger waited for Mick to elaborate. After a few minutes, it was clear the man wasn't going to. Digger sighed. Like pulling teeth with this one. He pulled out one of his boomerangs and balanced it on his finger.

Well that was enough team bonding for one day. There was bound to be more fun things to do in Central City. He put the boomerang back and stood up. Just as he was about to leave, Lisa Snart re-entered.

Digger sat back down. Well, maybe he could stay a bit longer. Digger took a moment to look Lisa over. He was a concerned teammate after all. Had to make sure she was all right, didn't he? She caught him staring at her and smirked.

There was fire in her eyes. Anger her pretty face and gorgeous smile couldn't quite mask.

"Drink love?"

"That would be perfect Boomer."

She slinked towards the table, and leaned over to get the bottle. She got a lot closer than was necessary. Her arm and hair grazing Digger as she leaned in.

Mick made a noise. It sounded like any other of the cave man grunts that Digger had heard. But Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Don't start Mick. One overbearing brother is about all I can take."

Mick didn't say anything else, but he finished putting his gun back together and then left the room."

"Fine, be a party pooper." Lisa yelled at Mick's back. Then she turned and whispered to Digger. "Looks like you and I will just have to make our own fun."

Girl knew what she was doing, he would give her that. The smiles, the tone of her voice, the way she leaned over. Must have caught many a man off guard. It was all obviously fake of course. That anger still shone out through her eyes clear as day.

"I think I can be alright with that."

Real was overrated in Digger's opinion. He would take fake any day if it looked like her. Lisa took a deep drink from the bottle, then handed it back to him.

"You trying to get me drunk love? Because I can assure you, that's not necessary."

They were circling each other like sharks. Two predators sizing up the other, recognizing the danger in one another. What happened when two sharks fought he wondered. Digger took a long swig from the bottle. He handed it back to Lisa. He was certain the scars would be worth the battle.

"Really? I find that most men need a few drinks to get up the courage in dangerous situations."

"You dangerous then?"

"More than you could handle."

"I can handle quite a bit, I'm sure of that."

"Most men think they are more capable than they are. I do so hate to be disappointed Digger."

"That why I haven't heard of you going with any of this lot? The ones that disappoint you not with us anymore?"

Lisa laughed. A less cynical man might have thought it almost sounded genuine for a moment.

"I don't sleep with people I work with. That's just bad for business. People get sloppy. Besides, the only passably attractive one is Mardon and I get the feeling he would be all sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"So then what are we doing here?"

"Talking Digger, there's no harm in that is there?" Her voice, her body language, her eyes. They all said something more than talking was happening here. "But then, technically, you're not a Rogue, are you? Just going to repay big bro and be on your way."

"Course. Once my debt is repaid, then you and me wouldn't be working together anymore would we?"

"I suppose you're right." She said it like she honestly hadn't considered that before. Digger smiled wider.

Lisa stood up and started to walk out of the room. Digger watched her ass as she left. Suddenly seemed like some undetermined date was too far away. He did have one trump card left to play. If he had read these Rogues right.

"You know love, there is one factor you haven't considered."

She turned and raised an eyebrow.

"If we were to…do more than talk now. It would really piss off your brother."

What was life without a little risk? Sure Cold might kill him, but at the moment, he couldn't find it in him to care. Not when she smiled that mischievous smile. She honestly seemed to be considering it now.

"You really know what to say to a girl don't you?"

"I'm incredibly charming."

She spared a glance down the hallway. No doubt towards wherever her brother was holed up, plotting out some complicated plan. That was another member of the Rogues that needed to get laid. Hell, from what Digger had observed, they could all do with a good tumble. They were all so tense, didn't they know the best way to relieve all that stress?

"Not tonight."

She left the room without another word.

Damn.

Thought he had her on that one. Digger pulled out a boomerang and balanced it on his finger again. Not tonight. Well, that was getting a little closer anyway. Wasn't exactly a no. He tossed the boomerang, letting it circle the room a few times before he snatched it out of the air.

The Rogues weren't all humorless pricks like most of ARGUS had been. Maybe he could have some fun with this crew before he went on his way. Not like he was going to stick around for long. Just until he repaid his debt.

Or Cold killed him for sleeping with Lisa.

Either way, at least it wouldn't be boring.


	7. Chapter 7

Successful heists weren't supposed to end with teammates knocking each other through walls. They were supposed to celebrate, go get drunk, then move on to the next job. That was how it always went. That's what should have happened this time. There was no real catalyst for the fight that Roy could see. Nothing bad had happened on the job. No sign of the Flash. No cops. No outside enemies or hidden forces trying to take them out.

But here Roy was, lying on the ground of what was probably Lisa's bedroom, trying to catch his breath. His shoulder was screaming in pain. Damn thing wasn't even fully healed yet. There was rain pouring down on him, the sound of fighting echoed all around.

And there was plaster in his mouth.

He should probably be thankful that the safe house was so run down. The walls were incredibly thin. In a newer house, one actually built up to code, Roy could have been seriously injured.

Roy lifted his head off the ground and caught a glimpse of a bright burst of fire through the hole in the wall. Mick was back up then. Roy thought he heard the sound of a soft melody playing before it was abruptly silenced.

Maybe he should get up off the ground.

Screw it.

Maybe he would just lie here and let those idiots kill each other. That would be the smartest course of action. He could just wait it out. The house made a loud creaking noise. Roy sighed. It wasn't going to take much more abuse.

The Rogues, the best thieves in Central City, killed when their safe house collapsed on them. He was sure the Flash would find that hilarious.

What the hell had happened? Roy had no idea what had spurred the fight, he hadn't been on the job with them today. He was still recovering from the beating he had gotten from the cops. So he had stayed back at the safe house.

The planning stages had been normal. Well, normal enough. Mardon had been particularly vocal in his displeasure about pulling a job while their enemies still ran free.

"We shouldn't be pulling some bullshit heist. We should be out there, killing every asshole who ever crossed us."

"I have explained this Mardon, we will strike when the time…"

"When is the time going to be right Cold? When Collins or Jones finally succeeds and kills one of us? Is that what you are waiting for? You said we would make those cops pay and we haven't done shit."

Mardon was especially upset about that part. Apparently Detective West was a man of his word and was currently getting rid of every dirty cop in the department. Eight cops had been arrested in the time since Roy had been attacked. A dozen more were still under investigation. It was quite the scandal. It was on the news every night. The whole city appeared to be angry with the police corruption.

Which wasn't good enough for Mardon. The man wanted blood. Cold's ability to keep Mardon in check had been slipping for a while. A week prior to today's job, Mardon and Roy had been out drinking. Mardon had been in one of his more somber moods, the two men had barely spoken most of the night. After his fifth drink, Mark had turned to Roy.

"We could take them you know."

"Who? The cops?" Roy had figured Mardon would suggest they go and take care of the cops themselves.

"The others. You keep them calm, and I could teach them a thing or two about real power. Show Cold he can't keep us on no damn leash. We aren't his dogs Roy, he can't order us around. We should be ruling this damn city, not hiding out like rats."

"I thought we were dogs. And rats are very intelligent creatures."

"I'm serious Roy."

"You're drunk Mark."

"If I make a move on Cold, would you have my back?"

Roy looked at Mark. The man was clearly drunk. But the way he was talking, the tone of his voice, the certainty of his words, implied he had been thinking about this for awhile.

"You're serious?"

"I think Lisa would be with us."

"You think she would turn on her own brother for you? A guy she doesn't particularly like?"

"I think she is just as sick of her brother's attitude. Hell, probably more so than the rest of us. He acts like he's smarter than we are, like he knows all the damn answers. He doesn't know shit."

"He saved us…"

"So? So what, we owe him for the rest of our lives? We repaid that debt, we don't owe him shit. We gotta start thinking about ourselves Roy. We need to take out our enemies before they take us out."

Roy wondered if Mardon included Cold in that list of enemies. He didn't ask and Mark went back to his drink. Mardon didn't mention their conversation again. Hell, Roy had assumed Mark didn't even remember the conversation he had been so drunk that night.

Roy should have said something then. Should have told Mark how stupid it was to try and split up the Rogues. There was safety in numbers, did that idiot not remember how easily they were captured when they worked alone? Roy wasn't going to end up back in the pipeline because Mark wanted to pull some alpha-male posturing bullshit. If Mark made a move, Roy wasn't going to get involved.

Mark was his friend, but the man was too impulsive. Too willing to fight over any little thing. The Rogues lead by Mark wouldn't last a week. Roy wasn't going to get arrested because Mark couldn't get past his brother's death. Which was what this was all about anyway.

Mark had only mentioned Clyde once or twice, and those had only happened when he was black out, mumbling to himself, drunk. Most of the time, Mark acted like his brother never existed. Like Clyde's death hadn't affected him at all. Like every action wasn't in some way influenced by the death of his little brother.

Maybe they should have hired a full time shrink to stay at the safe house. Maybe that could have prevented this. None of them had ever even attempted to deal with all the shit they had gone through in their lives. Probably could have helped them become better people. Roy had a vision of them all sitting in a circle during a group therapy session. Inspirational posters on the walls, calming music playing in the background. Mick would have set the white wooden chairs on fire within seconds.

Mardon wasn't the only one to blame for what was happening. They all played a part in this.

Ok. He was going to attempt to stand now. He gingerly pushed himself to his feet. He leaned against the hole in the wall he had created when Mardon knocked him through it. It was difficult to tell what was happening out there. It looked like it was still raining, but there was a thick fog as well. Although it might have been steam and not fog. The wall Roy was leaning on was cold to the touch.

Roy thought he saw a boomerang fly by. He wondered which side Digger was even on. Probably neither. The man seemed to enjoy pouring gasoline on to any flame he could find. One minute he would back Mardon, the next he would be agreeing with Cold. He was a highly trained killer, he might just murder them all then move on, never giving them another thought. Loyalty didn't seem like a concept Digger was very familiar with.

Roy supposed he could try and blame the fight on the two newest recruits. He had learned to ignore Hartley and Digger's constant bickering. It was background noise to him, like Mick absently flipping open his lighter. The others didn't feel the same way.

Shawna had been particularly vocal in her displeasure.

"How am I supposed to concentrate with those two idiots constantly gabbing in my ear? Do they want me to lose focus and reappear missing a body part?"

"I'm sure they don't…"

"Because I just might one of these days. I'll just disappear them and make them reappear missing a few appendages. That will teach them."

Shawna didn't particularly like either of the new Rogues. Digger because he was "a lecherous creep" and Hartley because he was "a spoiled little rich kid." There were times when she would become unusually combative. Not just with them, but with all of the Rogues.

The week after one of their earlier jobs as a team she had been particularly cold in her interactions. Roy had never understood why she had been so angry with him in particular. He was the one who had followed the plan. The mace from the security guard had only temporarily blinded her. And he had only left her alone for a few minutes. And he had told her he would be right back. She just needed to wait there for a moment. It wasn't his fault she didn't listen to him. He had found her wandering down the hallway with her hands out in front of her. She still couldn't see, but was fumbling along like she would be able to find her own way out.

He had started to chastise her for leaving the hiding spot, and she had tried to slap him. He had ducked it easily, but he was still surprised by the anger that was radiating off of her. And the fear.

Neither of them ever mentioned it again. He wondered if Shawna was still holding on to that resentment. If she was angry at Roy for abandoning her, even if it was only for a few moments.

She couldn't very well be angry with him now. Not after he had seen her disappear from the safe house when the fighting started. He had watched her through the window. For a moment, she just stared at the safe house. She looked like she was debating with herself. Then she was just gone.

Lisa had warned Roy that Shawna would be the first to turn on them. He hadn't believed her at the time. Lisa liked to stir up trouble as much as Digger. Which is probably why Shawna had thought that there was something happening between the two of them. Roy thought it was ridiculous, but he could be somewhat oblivious to those sorts of things.

When the fighting started, Roy was sure he had seen Lisa pointing her gun at Mardon. But as it had all dissolved and the power struggled turned into a free for all, he couldn't be sure he hadn't seen her trying to fight her brother. He had seen her kick Mick rather viciously in the balls. And she had punched Roy rather hard in the face. He knew by now he was sporting a rather impressive array of bruises.

If there had been sides to this fight in the beginning, they had long since broken down. Weeks, hell, months of frustrations and fear and anger and pain were finally boiling over. With no outside enemy to vent their anger on, the Rogues had turned on each other.

Roy knew there was bad blood between the Snart siblings. Mick had told him about their history of working together. They would be fine for a few months, then something would happen. Some old wound would surface and the two would get into a screaming match. They would go their separate ways. Years could pass before they would speak again. It was a cycle neither sibling seemed to know how to break. Regardless of how much they seemed to truly care about each other.

Speaking of Mick, Roy thought he saw the dining room table on fire. Roy was a little surprised the entire building wasn't already engulfed. Probably due to the fact that it was raining inside the safe house. Mick had been a problem from the start as well. The man would get antsy if he didn't get to set fires every so often. One night he had set fire to a department store not too far from the safe house. The blaze took out three surrounding buildings.

"What the hell Mick. I told you we needed to stay out of the spotlight. We need to…"

"What we need, and what I need are different things pal. I needed to burn something. So I did."

Cold tried to keep Mick contained. And most of the time it worked. But sometimes the man couldn't be reasoned with. Sometimes he had to be dragged away from a fire kicking and screaming. He had punched Shawna when she pulled him away one time. He needed his fire like Roy needed his painting. Roy couldn't judge the man for his obsessions.

Didn't mean he didn't constantly worry about what would happen if Mick ever decided to burn a building with them still inside.

Roy took a tentative step through the hole in the wall. His shoe scraping against something metallic. It was one of Hartley's devices. Kid must have tried to calm things down. Didn't work out too well for him apparently. Roy looked through the clearing steam, just in time to see Hartley firing his sonic blasts at Digger and then Mick. There were dozens of holes in the walls now. How the hell was this building even still standing?

Roy heard a crash and saw Mick tackle Digger through a window. The two men rolled around on the concrete outside. Both trying to beat the other to death. Lisa had her gun pointed at Hartley, the two of them were looking at each other with such disdain. Roy had thought that the two of them had gotten along. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe no one liked Hartley except for Roy.

The kid's wealthy background was a big sticking point for Shawna and Mick. Mardon and Digger hated the kid's attitude. But Roy had thought Lisa was being sincere when she joked around with the young genius. Maybe Roy had made too many assumptions about these people.

Roy knew Hartley didn't feel entirely comfortable around the Rogues. At first, Roy had thought it was because the kid was new to the business, or because he wasn't sure how his sexuality would be received by a group of criminals. But it was clear now to Roy that it wasn't either of those things.

The kid could hold his own on the job and in a fight. And none of the Rogues gave a damn about who he slept with. It was something else. Something distant in the boy's eyes. Roy knew that look. It was the look of an outsider. Someone who knew that they didn't belong here, and they never would. It was a look Roy was all too familiar with. He had seen it in the mirror his entire life.

Hartley hadn't been here long enough for Roy to figure out what the kid's problem was. Figure out what was holding him back, from accepting that he was one of them. Maybe if Roy had more time, he could have talked to the kid. But then, that really should have been Cold's job.

Roy saw Cold and Mardon beating the shit out of each other. Cold would go for his gun on the ground and Mardon would knock it away with a gust of wind. Mardon's arm was clearly broken. It was hindering his ability to call upon his full power. There was also a large gash above his left eye, blood was pouring across the man's face. Cold managed to knock the other man down, and was now strangling Mardon.

Not very good leadership skills there.

Roy respected Cold. Knew he owed the man for freeing him. But there were times when the man could be obstinate to the point of ridiculous. Sure, the man was usually right. But maybe it had made him overconfident. Even when he was wrong, he just plowed on ahead, assuming the plan would work out in the end. It was a miracle they were all still alive really.

Cold needed someone to stand up to him. To let him know when one of his plans wasn't working. When he needed to reconsider the options. Usually it was Lisa or Mick. But even they could barely dissuade him when he was certain of a course of action. He blatantly ignored any idea Mardon put forth, even if his concerns were reasonable. Maybe it was because such concerns were so rare, or because Mardon generally voiced his opinions by shouting them.

Cold didn't explain his reasoning, just assumed they would follow his orders. Roy tended to not let those things bother him. But there were times when even he had questioned the logic behind some of Cold's decisions.

Another crash drew Roy's attention. Somehow Mick and Digger were back in the house. That was another wall destroyed. Roy's eye caught on something on the ground. He ignored all the fighting around him. He knelt down beside it.

It was one of his paintings. It was hard to tell what had been on the canvas. But Roy could identify this one by the nails he had used to stretch it.

There were burn marks all over it. Large sections of it covered in soot and ash. There was a large slash down the middle, no doubt from a boomerang. And one of the corners was covered in what looked like gold. Someone must have used his painting as a shield. His other paintings…

Mardon had caused it to rain. Every room in the house was soaked. Rivers of water were running through the halls. Even the pieces in his room were probably ruined.

All of his art…

All of his work…

Gone.

Ruined.

Destroyed.

Because these idiots wanted to prove who was the most powerful. Wanted to act like a bunch of children. Because they couldn't get past their own pathetic egos.

Roy pulled up the torn flap of the canvas.

He could almost make out his mother's face.

To hell with them.

To hell with the Rogues.

They never respected him. Never respected his talent or his art. They were just like everyone else who had ever mocked him. Mick and Digger had no appreciation for art, making their thoughts on it well known. Mardon constantly referred to it as a hobby. His work was nothing to them. A joke they probably laughed at behind his back. They didn't understand. How could they? They were pathetic, uncultured fools.

They all underestimated him. They considered him to be the weakest of them.

Not any more.

Roy stood up. Lisa had Hartley on his knees in a headlock. But he was moving to blast her eardrums out with one of his still functioning gauntlets. Roy picked up a beer bottle off the ground and threw it at them. Both looked up at the same moment. A split second of eye contact was all Roy needed.

He had them.

Digger and Mick both fell down only a few feet from Roy. Digger was on top of Mick, punching the man in the ribs. Roy got Digger, then kicked him off of Mick and got him as well. They were just as silent and calm as Lisa and Hartley.

Cold and Mardon were oblivious to what was happening. Both still so focused on killing each other. Cold spared a momentary glance towards Lisa. Roy could see it, the moment Cold realized what was happening. He tried to push Mardon away, tried to reach for the goggles that had been knocked off of him during the fight. Roy walked over and stepped on them. Cold instinctively looked up. One more down.

One more to go.

Mardon was leaning against the wall. Blood still running down his face. He looked up, no doubt waiting for Cold's next attack. Finally, he saw Roy.

"Roy." Mardon smiled. "I knew you would…"

Roy quickly used his powers on Mardon.

"Shut the hell up Mark. All of you go into the living room now." They all calmly walked into the living room. Roy didn't know why he hadn't done this months ago. It would have made everything so much easier. The door to Roy's bedroom was only a few feet away. There was a small river of water flowing under the door. If he went in there now, and saw all of his paintings destroyed, he couldn't be sure he would just turn his powers to rage and kill them all.

"I suppose the fact that we lasted this long was an accomplishment." Roy took a deep calming breath. "Do you have any idea how easy this is for me? How quickly I could have killed each and every one of you at any point in these past months?"

Roy looked at the five of them standing calmly behind him. Their eyes a clear sky blue.

"I could kill each of you without ever having to move from this spot. A quick change to rage and you would all finish what you had started moments ago. You would rip each other's throats out with your teeth. Or…" Roy walked up to Mick. "Mick, give me your gun." Mick handed it over without hesitation. This particular calmness made people docile. Made them wiling to listen. Made them believe that nothing bad could ever happen. Roy pointed the gun at Mick's head.

"I could shoot each of you one by one and none of you would flinch. You would just wait your turn."

They were all to blame for this. They had let their personal problems, their pasts, their egos get the better of them. They let their problems with each other build until it had all finally boiled over. Roy supposed they should consider themselves lucky they hadn't taken half the city out with them.

"You want your revenge? You want to be in charge? You want to burn the entire city to the ground? Fine. Do that. You idiots want to kill each other? Do that." Roy looked at Mardon. "You think you are the most powerful one here?"

Roy changed the calm to fear. Only Cold and Lisa didn't drop to their knees. Mick screamed. Digger might have been crying. Mardon definitely was. Roy switched back to calm. They stop squirming, stopped grabbing at their heads. They stood back up, calmly as if nothing had happened.

"You don't understand real power Mardon. Because when you have it, you don't feel the need to brag about it, to remind everyone of how strong you are. I trust you understand it now."

Roy rubbed his eyes. He gave a small half laugh.

"That's what all this really comes down to, isn't it? Deep down, none of us ever really trusted each other. Hell, all Collins had to do was sit back and wait for us to turn on each other."

Sure, they trusted each other when they were pulling a job. Or when they needed back up in a fight. Trusted each other when there was a common enemy. But when it was just them, when there was no one to fight…

That's when it all fell apart.

Maybe it had been the addition of Hartley and Digger to the group that had caused things to devolve like they had. Both men had…challenging personalities. But he knew it wasn't them. He knew how people could romanticize the past. Make it seem like there were never any problems until some new element was introduced.

Roy knew he couldn't blame what happened on Hartley and Digger. Much as he would have liked to have such an easy excuse. There were problems with the Rogues well before those two came along.

Cold didn't really trust any of them around Lisa. Lisa didn't fully trust her brother. No one really felt entirely comfortable with a pyromaniac among them. Or a man who could control the weather. Especially since both men had such rage issues. They didn't trust Shawna to not disappear on them. She didn't trust any man to have her back.

And of course there was Roy. He knew he might have been the biggest issue of all. How could they ever really trust him? How could they ever know that anything they felt was real? How did they know he hadn't been manipulating them this entire time? Maybe the reason they felt angry, or depressed, or frustrated was because Roy had used his powers on them.

Which he hadn't of course.

Not until today that is.

"You idiots can kill each other for all I care. I'm done with you."

Roy took one last look at the Rogues in front of him. They were battered, their clothes torn. Bruises and blood marked their skin. This would probably be the last time they were all together. Roy pushed down any feelings of regret. They did this to themselves. They ruined his paintings. They destroyed everything.

Screw these assholes.

They deserved whatever happened next. Roy turned and took a few steps. He stopped suddenly.

"Hartley."

"Yes?"

"Come with me."

"Ok."

The kid didn't deserve to die in some pissing contest. Plus Roy's shoulder was aching so badly, he wasn't sure he would be able to drive a car. He limped out of the safe house, Hartley a few steps behind. Some of the bushes outside were still on fire. They were lucky this wasn't a better neighborhood. Someone might have called the cops anywhere else. He doubted anyone here would have cared if half the block caught on fire.

"Hartley, drive us back to your place."

"Ok."

Roy needed Hartley to stay calm, but he would be glad when he could release the kid. It was unnatural seeing the boy so docile. Roy was used to hearing an entire thesis when he asked the kid a question.

He waited until they were a few miles away before he released the other Rogues. They probably went right back to trying to kill one another. The adrenaline that had kept Roy angry, had kept him going, was starting to wear off. He felt exhausted. Hartley drove them across town. Roy didn't actually know where the kid lived, he only knew it wasn't close to the safe house. Roy might have fallen asleep at some point in the passenger seat.

"We're here."

It was a modest apartment building. Fancier than Roy was used to, but nothing ostentatious. Probably a lot of working families lived here. Roy looked at Hartley.

"Get out of the car."

Roy moved over into the driver's seat as Hartley got out. He could probably drive where he needed to go without crashing into anything. Sure, he could probably do that. Hartley stood on the sidewalk. Roy looked at him through the open window.

"Kid…"

Roy didn't know what to say. Not like he had any solid life advice to give anyone. Hell, he didn't even know what he was going to do next.

"Don't…don't do anything stupid."

Solid advice. A bit hypocritical considering what he had just done. God, he had used his powers on the Rogues. Cold was going to hunt him down and kill him.

Roy waited until he couldn't see Hartley in the rearview, then released the kid too. He drove a few more blocks then parked the car in the parking lot of a run down grocery store. He knew the cameras in the parking lot and in the store didn't work. He needed to get out of the city, and he needed to do it without being seen. He needed to find somewhere he could be alone. Somewhere he could regroup. Get his mind back in order.

He walked half a block to an auto repair shop on the corner. He knew it was a front for a chop shop. He used his powers to keep the workers calm, and then he stole a car. They wouldn't report that any of their cars were missing, didn't want the cops to look to close at their business.

Roy drove back to his old apartment, there was still police tape on the door. He ripped it down and went inside. He found the stash of cash he had hidden under the floorboards under his bed. He grabbed the duffel bag full of cash. He needed to stay off the radar from now on. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and left it on the table. He filled another duffel bag full of his paints and supplies.

He loaded the bags into the trunk of his newly acquired car. He went back upstairs and grabbed a few blank canvases. He would have liked to take all of them with him, but he needed to be quick. This would be the first place anyone would think to look for him. He would pick up food and other essentials on the way.

An old cell mate had told him about these hunting cabins, about two hours outside of Central City. They were remote, and the owner didn't ask any questions if you paid in cash. He could go there. Lay low for awhile. Try to figure out his next step. Think about where to go next. It would be stupid of him to return to Central. He would have to find somewhere else to live. He had lived in New York for awhile, maybe he would go back there. He wouldn't ever have a reason to return to Central City.

All of his paintings that weren't destroyed at the safe house, were in police lock up. Maybe he would risk coming back for them one day. He got back in the car and drove out of the city.

He only stopped once to get gas and coffee. He had passed several gas stations until he saw the one named Fill and Feed. They had the old gas pumps that didn't take credit cards, so Roy was willing to bet they didn't have any security cameras either. He bought a few things. Snacks, some medical supplies. Which was really only aspirin, ice packs, and some bandages. It would have to do. He had been able to ignore most of the pains he was feeling, but they were starting to make themselves known. He couldn't be sure no one had seen him leave the city, that he wasn't being followed. He was only sure that he had to keep moving. He only had to make it a little farther then he could collapse on a bed and not move for a week.

The cashier didn't even look up from his crossword when Roy bought the items. Which was good. Roy didn't think he could use his powers now if he tried. Apparently getting beaten up by your former associates took a lot out of you.

Another hour and Roy was standing outside of a beaten up looking trailer, paying a man for six months rent on a cabin that was so deep in the woods the owner wasn't sure Roy's car would make it. Apparently the gravel road ran out about two miles from the cabin. After that, it was just a path through the woods indicated only by where the grass had been flattened slightly.

"Your car will probably make it. Hasn't rained in a little while. You get stuck, just walk back about six miles to the next nearest cabin."

Roy just nodded. The man didn't bat an eye at the large wad of cash Roy pulled out of a duffel bag. He hadn't commented on Roy's appearance either. He was sure he still had plaster in his hair. The owner just pointed Roy in the right direction and went back inside his trailer.

It was almost nightfall by the time Roy reached the cabin. The entire thing smelled like dust. There was no electricity, but the owner had given him a little fuel for the lanterns. Roy lit a lantern and looked the cabin over. It was the very definition of rustic. Roy had even seen an outhouse as he walked in the front door. Well, that was going to take some getting used to.

Still, the cabin was probably twice as big as his first apartment in art school. Which really wasn't saying much. He walked through the combined living room/kitchen area and into the small bedroom. There was a single mattress sized bed and a night stand. The room really couldn't fit anything else. Roy slid the duffel bags under the bed and sat down on it.

He rubbed his eyes.

What a shit day. It had all gone so bad so quickly. One moment Roy was asking how the job had gone, the next the safe house was destroyed and the Rogues were bleeding and broken.

This is what he got. This is what he deserved for thinking those Neanderthals were any different. Thinking he could count on them, could trust them with his work. Thinking they understood his perspective, that this time would be different.

Roy made a noise of disgust. He was the biggest idiot of them all. They never had his back. It had all been a lie. A joke. The Rogues hadn't been a team, just a group of thieves who had thought they were better than they were.

A small feeling of…loss tried to worm its way into Roy's mind. But he pushed it down. He ignored any feelings of doubt that crept in. Anytime that he would think about the way Shawna would joke with him, the way Mardon would be protective of him, when Lisa would tease him about his clothes, when Mick would give him a rare nod of approval, when Digger would immediately back one of Roy's ideas no matter how insane, when Hartley would look at him with understanding, one artist to another. When Cold had told them they could be a team. Roy had believed it, because he knew that Cold had believed it too. He pushed all of these thoughts away and laid down on the bed. He focused on the pain. On his anger. He would push those assholes out of his mind completely. After a time, he would barely remember them at all.

* * *

He got lost in his painting. Days went by. Weeks. He only left the cabin when he ran out of food and couldn't ignore his hunger any more. There was no microwave in the cabin, just an old wood stove. He only bought pre-made meals, things he could heat up quickly over a fire. He would eat and immediately go back to painting.

That was all that mattered.

He honestly didn't know how long it had been since he left Central. Months by now most likely. His wounds had all healed, his shoulder no longer ached when he would spend all day painting. He meant to look at a newspaper the last time he had been out to get food but had forgotten. It just seemed so unimportant. He had his painting, and he had his solitude. He didn't really need much else.

He took a step back from his current work. It was almost done now. This would be the sixth piece he had completed since he came out to the cabin. It was a two headed bird sitting atop a large cage. The left head was pecking at the cage, the left wing wrapped protectively around it. Desperate to get back in. Desperate to be back inside where it felt safe. The right head was looking towards the open window, its right wing stretched out as if attempting flight. Desperate to be free.

The eyes of both heads reflected conflict. As though neither were sure of their choice. Roy had been working on it for weeks. He had spent countless hours staring at it. But this time, when he stepped back, when he stared at the painting, he only had one thought.

Shawna.

Roy almost dropped his paint brush.

Son of a bitch.

No. He didn't just…he looked back towards the other five paintings stacked against each other in the corner. This was a fluke. That was all. He walked hesitantly towards the other paintings. The first one in the pile wasn't any of the Rogues. He was sure of it.

It was a painting of a tree and its roots below ground. Just a simple scenery of a large tree. No ulterior meaning to it. There were no other plants or trees in the painting. The tree took up the entire top half of the canvas, it's branches so thick and large they almost completely blocked out the sky. It's roots however, were thin. Brittle. Like spider webs cracking the dirt. There were multiple tombstones surrounding the tree, but only one coffin below. The roots looked as thought they had formed, not from the needs of the tree above, but from the coffin buried directly beneath the tree. The tree wouldn't survive long with roots like that.

Mardon.

God damn it. Had he really just spent however many months subconsciously painting his former teammates? He flipped to the next painting.

It was a bulldog chasing a ball. Both of its hind legs were missing, the bulldog had chewed them off to be free of the shackles that kept him locked inside his former owner's yard. The dog was bleeding to death. But it didn't care, it just wanted to chase the ball for as long as it could.

Digger.

The next one was a side profile of an old man sitting in a rocking chair. The man was clearly blind, his appearance almost skeletal. His skin deep with wrinkles. His eyes could see nothing in front of him, but there was a smile on his face. In front of him was nothing but darkness, but behind him there were images spilling out of his head. Scenes of war, and fighting, and blood, and fire.

Mick.

A night sky. The stars shining brightly, though there was smog trying to block the stars. They should have been diminished, should have been hidden by the shit and the tall smoke spires that tried to reach them. But they weren't. They only shined brighter because of it.

Lisa.

A rat being chased by shadows down a pipe in a sewer. The shadows had sharp claws and teeth, they glistened with blood. Ready to rip the rat to pieces. The rat had a few bleeding wounds where the shadow monsters had gotten too close, gotten in a lucky shot or two. But the rat wasn't afraid. The creatures were too stupid to see they were being lead into a trap.

Hartley.

And then there was the last painting. Roy didn't have to look at any of them really. He knew exactly what was on each canvas. He had spent days on the details. Still, he flipped past Hartley's to look at what he was now certain was a painting of Leonard Snart.

It was a conductor standing in front of an orchestra. The man's back was to the viewer, you couldn't see his face. But you could see the confidence in his posture, in the way he held his hands. It was a serious and solemn pose, not at all undercut by the fact that orchestra was inside of a circus tent. Acrobats swung above, taking their cues from the music below. There was no one in the stands. They played to an empty tent. Their music was for the circus performers only.

Roy rubbed his eyes. He needed to get out of this cabin. Clearly his mind had decided to turn on itself. Is this what they meant by cabin fever? He shouldn't give a damn about any of these people. He shouldn't be giving them any more of his time.

It had rained a week ago, but he should still be able to get the car out. There was a bar not too far from here. That was all he needed. A drink, and maybe some food that didn't come from a can.

Roy pushed the paintings back against the wall in disgust. He was sure those assholes hadn't given him another thought. Except maybe on how to kill him if they saw him again.

A drink. That was all he needed. Just a drink, and a moment away from the ridiculous musings of his subconscious mind. It was because the Rogues had taken up almost a year of his life. That was why he had painted them. He didn't have any other recent inspirations to pull from. That was all it was. They would fade as soon as he found something else that fascinated him.

Which most likely wasn't going to be anything at Club 63. Whoever had decided to name this place a "club" was clearly unfamiliar with the meaning of the word. It was a dingy bar in the middle of nowhere. It probably only got five customers a day, if that many. The bartender had been so surprised to see Roy he had given him his first drink for free.

Sitting alone, listening to the two other patrons argue over who could eat more chili cheese fries. This was hardly the spot for inspiration. But at least he was away from the cabin. Perhaps the idiots behind him would switch to more enlightened conversation. Roy snorted, or he just needed to be drunker. He ordered several more rounds, ignoring any attempts the bartender made to speak with him.

He didn't look around him. Just focused on drinking. On keeping his mind from straying to anything regarding the Rogues. He definitely wasn't wondering what had happened to them. Wasn't considering….

Roy decided he had had enough, this place wasn't providing much of a distraction. He would pay his tab and be on his way. He would buy some alcohol the next time he went for food. He could just drunk by himself from now on.

The bartender was in the far corner, fiddling with an old TV set. Eventually he got it working. A news broadcast started. Roy saw words scrolling across the screen. Words like, Emergency and The FLASH. He might have even spotted the word Rogues.

He ignored them.

The Flash wasn't his problem any more. The Rogues weren't his problem any more. He had dumped his cell phone and the back up burner phone back in Central. He hadn't attempted to make contact with any of the others. Not Mardon or even Hartley. They would have assumed Roy left town. If they were smart, or if they were still alive, they would have left Central too. Without the Rogues to protect them, the Flash…damn it.

Maybe it was the beers finally catching up to him but Roy could admit it now, if only to himself. He was…a bit lonely.

Prior to joining the Rogues, Roy had spent most of his life alone. He wasn't one for large crowds or close friendships. He didn't know why he had never really been able to connect with people. Something in his personality he supposed, something that told people to stay away, that Roy wasn't like other people. He had been called weird, a freak, odd, and dozens of other less flattering descriptors since he was a child. By the time he was a teenager he had come to accept that there was something wrong with him. Something other kids could sense.

He supposed in the almost a year he had been with the Rogues, he had gotten used to having them around. Gotten used to being surrounded by other freaks. By people who had sensed something was different about him, and had accepted it. Never questioned it. Never questioned that he was one of them.

But that wasn't his life anymore. He had broken one of the rules. Never use your powers on the others. It was the only way to stop them. At least he had thought that at the time.

Had he over reacted? Roy had thought they meant to kill each other. They were all physical people, with tendencies for violence. Maybe they were just getting their aggression and frustration out. For all he knew, the others were sitting back at the safe house, having a beer, watching a hockey game, and plotting ways to find and kill Roy for betraying them.

No. That wasn't it. He hadn't second guessed his choice to use his powers on them yet. And he wasn't going to start now.

He had seen the resentment in Mardon's eyes. The anger in Mick's, the fear in Shawna's, the disgust in Lisa's. They might not have been trying to kill one another consciously. But someone would have ended up dead if Roy hadn't intervened.

Looking back on it now, it was all so obvious. Like standing in a field and watching the clouds swirl overhead. Watching them darken, you know you should get to safety, but you ignore it. You think it will just pass on by like so many storms before.

Except this time the clouds get darker, and before you have time to react, you are in the middle of a tornado. You can't stop it, and the time to get to safety has long since passed. All you can do is hope that you survive the destruction to come.

Well Roy had survived. And he would continue to do so as he had for the vast majority of his life.

On his own.

Roy finished his drink and stood up to leave. The bartender turned up the TV to drown out the inane argument the other two patrons were still having.

"…again, if you are downtown. Stay inside. Do not leave your home. From the reports we have received, groups of people wearing gorilla masks are attacking local businesses and…"

Roy blocked out the noise from the TV. Central City wasn't his problem any more. The others could take care of themselves. He didn't need the Rogues. And they didn't need him.

He reached into his wallet, paid his tab and headed for the door.

"…of course, this attack comes only three days after two notorious members of the so called Rogues were…"

Roy pushed through the door quickly. He didn't want to hear anything that might…

Might what? For all he knew the reporter was about to say something about a successful heist the Rogues pulled off the day before. There was no reason to think that anything had happened to them. That they might have been captured. That they needed his help. If Roy was the only person not locked up he was supposed to do Plan E-19. He still had the damn thing memorized.

But then, that was only if Roy was still a Rogue. Or if the Rogues still existed at all. Which they didn't. There was no reason for Roy to worry about them. No reason for him to consider going back to Central. It wasn't his responsibility to look out for them anymore.

They…they could take care of themselves.


	8. Chapter 8

Roy was…uninspired.

Roy hadn't been able to paint in almost a week. Which wasn't the longest he had ever gone without painting. But it was the longest he had ever gone when he was actively trying to paint. He would stare at the canvas and nothing would come to him. He was so disgusted that he had given up on it for today and was now sitting on his bed reading a book he had picked up at the grocery store.

And as enthralling as _Ghost of New Port Castle: A Fantasy_ was, he constantly found his mind wandering. He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. This was pointless. He needed to stop thinking about…

He heard the sound of the door to the cabin open. It wouldn't be the owner, the man would only come by when the next rent was due. Roy moved quickly into the living room. He activated his powers, ready to defend himself against whomever had entered.

"I have to admit, you were actually hard to find."

Roy's eyes took a moment to adjust, but he recognized the voice immediately.

"Harkness?"

"'Ello Roy. You got any beer in this place?"

Roy was struck by the fact that Harkness wasn't wearing his long overcoat. The damn thing seemed to be a permanent fixture of the man. That and he only appeared to have one of his boomerangs still with him. There was a large bandage wrapped around his arm. The man looked like he had been in a fight recently. Several fights, actually.

Roy pointed towards the cabinet even though Harkness had already opened it. The man pulled out a beer, opened it, then leaned back against the kitchen counter and drank it down.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Harkness raised an eyebrow.

"Haven't been watching the news mate?"

"No."

"Ah. Well you see, about a week or so ago last of the Rogues got arrested."

Roy felt a momentary twinge of concern, but he pushed it down. The Rogues had split up, everyone had gone their separate ways. Not his problem.

"The Rogues split up."

"Yes I suppose that's true. Mind if I sit down for a bit? Story might take a little while."

Roy nodded reluctantly. Harkness was already here, it wouldn't do any harm to hear the man out.

Harkness grabbed another beer then flopped down on Roy's couch.

"Well, after you went all Zen master on them, everyone sort of left. Except me and Cold. Figured I still owed the man for breaking me out, hadn't had the chance to repay my debt yet. Well he's all snippy there for awhile, tells me he'll call when he needs my help, so I figure alright. I'll stick around Central for a bit. So I find ways to entertain myself, then a month later he calls me up. Says he needs me for a job. Some smash and grab thing. Mick even joins us. Him and Cold still seemed pissed at each other over something but they were willing to put it aside to get the job done. We do the job nice and clean. Just as we are leaving this…"

Harkness finished off the beer. Even after he finished it he just sat there, staring at the can. It didn't look like the man was going to continue the story.

"This what?"

"Alright, I'll just say it. Gorilla. This giant gorilla comes out of nowhere."

Roy looked at Harkness.

"How drunk are you?"

"I swear mate, it was the damnedest thing. Could talk too. Well it was telepathic or something. But anyway, the gorilla's not the important part."

"It feels like a telepathic gorilla would be the main point of any story."

"Says it has a message for us. Asking us if we wanted to join some other tosser in taking down the Flash. Cold said no. But then it mentioned that Lisa and Mardon had already agreed. Apparently someone was getting a bunch of the Flash's enemies together to try and take him out right quick."

"Cold agrees right then and there. Tells me later he doesn't trust this thing but he isn't going to let his sister get hurt because she joined some ridiculous revenge society. I tell him I'll stick around. I mean, if there's a telepathic gorilla involved, I'm curious as to what else could go down. It wasn't going to be boring if nothing else."

"So we go to this meeting couple weeks later and there's a whole group of people, most of whom I don't recognize. But I see Hartley with Mardon and Lisa. Cold points out someone named Nimbus, and a couple others. Dangerous people he says. Sociopaths and the like. Says we should listen to what this guy has to say but then we needed to go. Seemed to think the people in the room were untrustworthy.

"This man dressed up like the Flash shows up, except his suit's not the right color. All yellow and absolutely ridiculous looking if you ask me. Says he has a plan to not just take out the Flash, but to take over Central City. Real megalomaniac type. Whole time that damn gorilla is standing behind him, freaking everybody out. Starts spelling out the details, letting us know what we each needed to do. But then all of a sudden, the cops and the Flash and his crew show up. Whole place erupts, there were metas and guns going off all over the place."

"Cold tries to get to Lisa, but one of the cops gets to him first. They all had these tranquilizer guns. Took out a bunch of people that way."

Boomerang tossed Roy an odd looking gun. Roy was having trouble focusing on it.

"Cold got arrested?"

"Yea, he was the first one. Me and Mick made it out of there, so did Lisa and Hartley. But Mardon got snatched by the Flash couple days later. Heard through the grapevine little bit later Shawna got thrown in the pipeline too. Wasn't even at the meeting. From what I heard, she tried to hide out like you. Didn't try to pull any jobs on her own. But she got grabbed just the same."

"So the four of us try to lay low, stay hidden. Works for a couple weeks, but the cops are relentless. The faces of every meta human who ever committed a crime are plastered all over the TV. Apparently the Flash has made several enemies even we didn't know about. Only reason my face wasn't up there with the rest is because they didn't know I was free. Thought I was still sitting in a cell in the North China Sea. Didn't realize Waller had pulled me out to do a little job for her, until you lot sprung me."

"Seemed like the whole damn city was looking for us. People are going mental. Talking about how metas are unnatural, how they should be rounded up. How they should all be locked up. Except the Flash. Everyone was alright with let him run around."

"Why didn't you leave Central?"

"Tried. That's how we lost Mick. Cops had all the bridges, airports, train stations, and docks covered. Didn't help that Flash had called in a few friends to help deal with us."

"Why? Why go after all of you? Because you attended a meeting?"

"Lisa thinks that was old yellow suit's plan all along. Get rid of any one with enough power to stand against him. All he had to do was call us all together so it looked like we were all in it with him. So the cops and the Flash would think we were all willing to burn Central City to the ground. Whatever that bastard is planning, Lisa thinks he wanted all the metas, and especially the Rogues, out of the way. Didn't want any of us to be in the frame of mind to help out the cops or the Flash if it came to it."

"Guess he didn't know the Rogues weren't a problem any more."

"Yea, bastard should have updated his contact info."  
"So what happened to Hartley and Lisa?"

"Hartley manages to keep us low. Uses some kind of technology to block any tracking devices STAR labs and the Flash could come up with. Lisa's in charge, does a right good job of it too. Except it wasn't the Flash who came for us. Was the Arrow asshole. Think he was a little surprised to see me, which is probably the only reason I was able to escape. The next day, the gorilla started rampaging down main street, making people do it's bidding. I managed to slip out of Central in the chaos. Took me over a week to find you."

"And why did you need to find me?"

"Need you to help me break the others out of the pipeline don't I?"

"You're serious?"

"Of course. They're all there. Even the non-metas. They enacted some new laws, if you use 'enhanced human abilities or scientifically superior weaponry' to commit crimes then you aren't considered a regular criminal anymore. Gotta hold special trials, and lock you up in the pipeline. They transferred some out of Iron Heights and put them there too. Holding them there until they can go for a fair trial. Which is a load of bull. Saw Mardon's trial on the news. Was a sham. His lawyer didn't say more than two words. Only lasted a few days. They gave him 75 to life for killing the people he did. Shawna got 40 years. Accessory after the fact since she was hanging out with you lot."

Roy tried to wrap his head around the idea of being trapped in one of those boxes for 75 years. Why would he risk that for himself? Why would he go help people who would just as likely kill him as thank him?

"Why do you think I can help you? Or that I even would?"

"Because, you got an advantage mate. Everyone thinks you're dead."

"What?"

"Even Lisa and Hart thought it towards the end. We were watching the news everyday seeing more and more getting rounded up. Figured it was just a matter of time before they found you. But nothing. There was this huge explosion down near where your old apartment used to be, loads of people died. Most of the bodies never recovered. We thought maybe you got stuck in that. Hartley did a search for you. Tried to find any trace but he couldn't. Looked through every electronic database there is. Facial recognition, all that. Never had any proof that you left the city, and since you never got rounded up, everyone assumed you were dead. When I left the city, figured I'd ask around for you. See if anyone had seen you. Only reason I found you is because this hooker I met up with said she saw someone fitting your description coming out of a general store couple days back. I asked if that place sold paint and she said they did. Figured it was the best lead I had, and tracked you to here. Pure luck really."

"Lucky me."

"So what do you say, you in?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you hardly seem like the type to risk his life for others."

Digger laughed.

"You got me there mate. Normally, I would find a nice little set up like you got here and wait until all the ruckus dies down. But, I got a couple people on my tail that are unlikely to give up the search. Waller included. Figured the best chance I got of staying out of prison, or the ground, would be to have some protection. Way I see it, the Rogues are the best protection I could get. And if I help break Cold out, then that squares us."

"Why didn't you and the others break out Cold and Mardon when there were four of you?"

"Told you the Flash had friends? Seems a bunch of them stayed at STAR Labs, or whatever they're calling it nowadays, we could never find a time when there were less than 3 or four of them there. Then Mick got pinched and we figured we could hold out until we got a plan right. Hartley managed to create a program that would let us get into the place. But only had time to make a key card that would open one of the cells. One and done sort of thing. Know for a fact the Arrow has headed back to Starling so the place won't be as well protected. They think they've got all the dangerous ones locked up."

Digger handed Roy a thumb drive.

"We get that up and running, we should be able to get the others out. Well, get Hartley out and he should be able to do the rest. Except we need to do it right quick."

"Why?"

"Waller's claiming that STAR labs doesn't belong to anyone since Harrison Wells disappeared. So in four days ARGUS is going to take over the facility. It won't be a couple of do gooders guarding the place it will be dozens of heavily armed military men. Plus I can tell you from experience, once Waller gets ahold of the prisoners she considers useful, she is going to be pulling them out and using them for the Suicide Squad. We got to get to them before she sends them to the ass end of the world to get killed."

Roy sighed. He looked at the thumb drive in his hands.

He could tell Digger to go to hell. He could use his powers on the man and leave. Find another place, if everyone thought he was dead then they wouldn't be looking for him. There was absolutely no reason for him to risk his life for those people. Or his freedom. It was ultimately more likely that he and Digger would both get caught and end up spending the rest of their lives locked up right beside the others.

Digger had to see how futile this was.

"I thought you said there were always a few of them around."

"There is, but Lisa and I put up some distractions around town. Nothing too serious, but enough to draw them out. Figure they will leave one or two behind. We should be able to take anyone out who gets left to protect the place. Just a couple explosions, a couple fires. Don't care how many of them there are, they won't be able to get to all of them and get back to us before we spring the others."

Roy thought about what Digger had said. It was barely a plan. He should just tell Digger to leave. Tell him that he was done with the Rogues. That those people had meant nothing to him. He would be fine on his own. The others had done this to themselves. It was their own faults they were locked up. They should have left like Roy did.

Roy spared a quick glance towards the six paintings in the corner. There was a blanket over them now. He had put it there after he had gotten back from the bar. He had gotten rather drunk two nights ago and considered setting them on fire or throwing them out. But he just hadn't been able to do it.

He hadn't been able to paint anything else in the week and half since he realized he had painted the Rogues.

Roy sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"So how do we get into STAR labs?"

* * *

The explosive devices Lisa and Digger had placed across the city were set on delayed timers, by the time the Flash was getting finished with one, another would go off. Roy and Digger waited until the third explosion before they entered STAR labs. They had seen the Flash leave, and not too long later, several different vehicles. They managed to slip in undetected. They made their way to the storage area first. Roy grabbed all the weapons that had been confiscated from the Rogues. He turned to see Digger pulling a case off of a shelf.

"Ah there you girls are. Did you miss your daddy?"

Every time Digger opened his mouth, Roy's doubt about this plan working only increased. The man pulled several boomerangs out of the case and started checking them over before putting them in the holders on his outfit. He even found his long overcoat.

"Bastards didn't even fold it. Look how messed up it looks now."

"Make sure you leave a very stern note. We should move, we need to be quick."

"Yea, yea. It was my plan wasn't it?"

Technically, it was a modified version of one of Cold's escape plans, but Roy didn't think that mattered to Digger. Roy picked up the bag holding all of their weapons, and was about to tell Digger they could head to the pipeline, when Digger tackled him to the ground.

Bullets started hitting the shelves around them.

"Harkness you son of a bitch."

The sound of gunfire filled the enclosed space. Digger threw one of his newly acquired boomerangs back towards the source of the gunfire. The man was actually smiling. He enjoyed this. Roy only had one thought as the bullets dinged off of the shelving around them.

He could be painting right now.

Another bullet pinged over Roy's head. Whoever the guy shooting at them was, he seemed to really hate Digger. Which wasn't all that surprising. Most people seemed to dislike him. Didn't help that Digger was antagonizing the man.

"Lyla not around John? I'd like to give her my love."

"How the hell did you escape from the island?"

"Didn't mate. You really trusted Waller to keep valuable assets locked up? Admit it, you knew I would return eventually."

Digger seemed to enjoy puns as much as Cold. Probably why the two men got along so well. Digger turned to Roy.

"Get the others out."

"What about…?"

"I'll keep him busy. He's trying to hold us here until back up arrives. We need to get to our back up first."

Roy nodded and made his way to the hallway as Digger covered him. He could hear Boomerang insulting the other man over the sound of the gunfire. Odds are they were going to have to rescue Digger once the others were taken care of. As long as the man didn't get himself killed first.

Roy made it to the entrance to the pipeline without encountering anyone else. He reached up to open the door…and hesitated.

Damn it. Now was not the time to let old fears creep in. He was just going to get in, get Hartley, then the others, and get out. It wouldn't take very long. He…he would be able to get out.

From Digger's description, the pipeline had been redone. Forced to actually fit the standards of a normal prison. The cells were now two of the boxes welded together. Apparently they even had beds in them now. With pillows and everything. The entire pipeline area, not just the cells, were fitted to neutralize their powers. It was so that the prisoners could actually leave their cells to stretch their legs.

Once Roy walked through that door, his own powers would be neutralized. Roy gripped the tranquilizer gun Digger had given him.

"No reason to piss of the capes more than they already are." Even with Cold gone, Harkness and the other Rogues had stuck to Cold's rules. It wasn't that surprising in Harkness' case. The man needed the protection of the Rogues and he knew it. He had too many enemies. He didn't want to do anything that might give Cold a reason to kick him out.

Roy sighed. He just had to get to Hartley. Stop delaying, and just get to Hartley. The kid used to work here, he would know every detail of the place. Know how to get the others out. Roy took a calming breath and opened the door.

The pipeline was such a cavernous thing. Which was something that had bothered Roy when he had been locked up here. It was one thing to be locked inside a box. It was another to be locked inside of a box while spending all day staring into wide open space. All that space and their jailers never let them use any of it.

There was gym equipment on the ground floor of the pipeline, surrounded by a barbwire cage. How kind of the STAR labs team to provide it now that they knew the whole world was watching. Roy would bet that none of them were held accountable. Save the world and everyone just forgets about how you….

Roy took another breath. He needed to focus, he needed to get this done. He moved to the control panel on the wall and brought up the information for Hartley's cell. He hit a few buttons, then he saw a box move out of its place on the wall. Roy walked across the bridge that connected the two sides. They had even added a rail. STAR Labs was all about safety now apparently.

"Is it time for lunch already Cisco? Good to know punctuality was one of the few lessons you managed to gleam from school. Though I'm sure…" Hartley hadn't looked up from his book yet. Roy looked closer at the cell. It was still sparse. Still claustrophobic. But there was a mattress on the ground. And a pile of books in the corner. Downright homey compared to last time.

Hartley was completely unaware of the rescue. Still focused on insulting Cisco. The kid might go all day if Roy didn't say something.

"I know it's been awhile Hartley, but I'm pretty sure I don't look anything like Cisco. I'm not even wearing an irreverent t-shirt."

Hartley's head snapped up. He looked genuinely surprised.

"Roy? We all thought…"

"Digger explained it to me…"

Hartley's eyes narrowed.

"Tell me you two idiots aren't trying to pull off a prison break in the middle of the day."

Roy used the electronic key card and opened Hartley's cell.

"Three idiots now."

Hartley smirked.

"Two idiots and a genius. Your odds of survival just went up 500 percent."

"Great. We need to hurry. Digger is holding off the person who was guarding the place but he called for back up. They might be here any minute."

They crossed the bridge and Hartley headed for the control panel on the wall.

"Since they had to bring the place up to code, they had to install safety features. Such as…"

A loud alarm started blaring. Roy stared at Hartley.

"I know this is your first prison break, but usually the goal is to not trigger the alarms."

"Please. Like you said, they already know you are here. Besides, those are the fire alarms."

All of the cells against the wall began to rotate outwards. Soon every occupied cell was out and waiting on the other side of the bridge.

"Now, all I have to do is recode the key card…" Hartley snapped his fingers at Roy. Roy rolled his eyes, but in the interest of time he handed the kid the key card and the small netbook computer Roy had brought with them. He would slap the kid later.

Hartley started to work on the card. Roy looked over at the cells. He could see the Rogues and several people he didn't recognize. There were well over a dozen people locked in the cells now. Cold was looking at the two of them directly. From this distance it was impossible to tell if the man was going to kill Roy the moment he was freed from the cell. He might blame Roy for everything that happened since the fight. Might blame him for getting them all locked up.

Roy turned back towards the hallway. He thought he heard something.

Shit. Someone was coming.

Roy took off the satchel and draped it over Hartley's head.

"What the…"

"Someone's coming. All of the Rogues' weapons are in there, including your gauntlets. A few other weapons too." Roy handed Hartley the tranquilizer gun. "If anyone other than me or Digger comes down the hall, shoot them."

Hartley eyed the gun for a moment.

"What if I want to shoot Digger?"

"Try to control the urge." The sound started to get closer. "Get them out of there quick."

Roy turned and walked back towards the hallway. He moved slowly, trying to stick to the walls. He peaked around the corner where the noise had been coming from. There was someone walking towards Roy. They were leaning against the wall, using it for support.

Digger.

Roy moved forward quickly. He was only a few steps away when Digger looked up, his arm cocked back with a boomerang in his hand.

"Digger. It's me."

It took a moment for the man's eyes to focus on Roy.

"Roy? Bastard got a lucky shot. Took him down with an electric…" Digger started to fall forward. Roy grabbed him by the arm. He looked behind Digger and saw trail of blood.

Digger's left side was covered in it. There was a gunshot wound just above his hip. Roy put an arm under Digger's good side and helped the man walk towards the pipeline. Damn. They needed to stop that bleeding, but he couldn't do it right now.

"What did you do to piss that guy off?"

"Tried to kill his wife. Though, she tried to kill me first so fairs fair I think."

"He didn't seem to see it that way."

"That's because…"

"Stop right there!"

How many damn costumed superheroes were there now? Were they going to have to go through every single one to get out of here?

"Put your hands in the air! Or I will be forced to incapacitate you." Roy removed his arm from Digger and put his hands in the air. He started to slowly turn, activating his powers. His eyes were glowing yellow by the time he turned around and faced….whoever the hell this was.

The man in the mechanical suit was smiling as Roy was turning. But that helmet he was wearing didn't have reflective glass covering his eyes. Digger had said everyone thought Roy was dead. They wouldn't be ready to defend themselves against him.

Roy unleashed the full power of fear on the unsuspecting hero. One minute the man was standing there smiling. The next, there was a hole in the ceiling. The man had just activated his suit and flew straight up and away.

"See mate. Told you this plan would work." Digger started coughing.

"Says the man bleeding to death on the floor."

Roy grabbed Digger and pulled him back up. Roy wondered what would happen when he inevitably threw out his back carrying these idiots around. Would he be able to get Workers Comp from Cold?

When Roy and Digger got back to the entrance of the pipeline, Hartley wasn't standing at the console by the wall.

Roy couldn't help but notice that everyone was still locked inside their cells.

"Hartley!"

"Over here!"

Hartley was standing beside Mardon's cell. Roy would have thought Hartley would get Cold out first. But then he remembered that in most of the escape plans, getting Mardon out was a top priority. He could create a lightening storm that could knock out the power, or he could just rip a hole in the side of the building for them to escape through.

"Almost got it!" Hartley shouted across the open space. Roy half carried Digger towards the cells.

"Hurry up Hartley." The kid didn't look up from whatever he was messing with on Mardon's cell.

"Would you like to come over here and do this? No? You mean you don't know how to reprogram an entire system running seven different security protocols with a netbook using window 97 in less than ten minutes? How shocking, I would have thought…"

"Sometime before Digger bleeds to death would be preferable." Hartley briefly glanced at Digger. Digger laughed.

"Well, why'd you say that Roy? Now the kid will just go slower."

Roy gently lowered Digger to the ground. He took a moment to examine the wound. The bullet had gone straight through. Good, that they didn't' have to remove a bullet. Bad, that Digger was bleeding from two holes. They should have brought medical supplies. The infirmary wasn't too far from here. Roy could make it.

"Hartley get them out quick. I'll be right back, I'm going to go grab some medical supplies for this idiot."

"Oh sure, taunt the dying man"

"Shut up Digger."

Roy's movement was halted by a simple word.

"No."

Roy turned toward Cold's voice. He finally made eye contact with their former leader. The man was just as unreadable as ever.

"Digger needs…"

"Hartley said you brought our weapons."

"Yes…" Roy got the distinct feeling he wasn't going to like Cold's suggestion. Digger would probably like it even less.

"No more splitting up. Get Mick's gun."

Hartley kicked the bag with weapons over towards Roy. The kid seemed to be blatantly ignoring them. Focusing solely on the side of the cell. Roy spared a glance at Digger, the man was far too pale. Roy grabbed Mick's gun out of the bag. Digger raised an eyebrow.

"Don't suppose we thought to bring any whiskey with us?"

"Sorry, fresh out."

"Fantastic."

Cold's voice was steady, it carried the same authority it always had. The same tone that had them following his commands, without too many questions.

"Mick, tell him how to use it."

Mick's cell was on the other side of Nimbus. Roy ignored the contract killer staring at him and tried to focus on what Mick was saying.

"There's a gauge on the side. You are going to want to superheat the filaments without engaging the liquid. If you accidentally do that, then you will set both of you on fire."

Roy watched as the end of the gun began to glow. He could feel the heat radiating from it.

Roy lifted Digger's shirt.

"Sorry about this."

Roy didn't give Harkness a chance to reply, just shoved the end of the gun against the wound. Digger's whole body arched. His scream echoed through the cavernous room. Roy quickly repeated the process on the wound on his back as well. By the time he was done, Digger was unconscious. Beads of sweat were running down the man's face.

Well, that was a completely traumatizing experience.

"Got it." Hartley's voice drew Roy's attention away from Digger.

Roy turned to see Mark's cell door open. The man stepped out of his cell. This seemed to be the catalyst for the sudden rise in noise. Every prisoner seemed to realize what was happening. People were escaping. They all wanted out.

"Hey! You have to let all of us out. You can't just leave us all here."

"Get me next! I can help you guys. I can join the Rogues, just let me out."

The sound was deafening in the space. Thankfully Hartley had turned off the fire alarms that had been blaring. Although the prisoners were just as loud.

Mark walked straight over towards Roy. Roy stood up from his position beside Digger.

"Thought you were dead."

"Apparently not."

Mark stretched an arm towards Roy. His hand hovering in mid air a few inches from Roy's arm. It was as if the man wasn't sure exactly what to do.

Mardon curled his fingers into a fist and punched Roy lightly in the shoulder. Roy smirked. Mardon gave a rare smile.

"Can't believe you are pulling a prison break in the middle of the day."

"That's what I said." Hartley was in front of Cold's cell. Apparently, Hartley figured out how to override the system because Cold's cell opened after only a few seconds. Cold stepped out, he put a hand on Hartley's shoulder.

"The others. And only the others."

"Got it."

Cold walked slowly towards them. Roy really wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't sure how Cold would react.

"Technically you never specified a time to stage the breakouts."

Cold smirked.

"I suppose I'll have to be more specific next time."

Cold looked at Roy strangely for a moment. Then he outstretched his hand. Roy took it and the two men shook hands.

"Thank you."

"Not free yet."

"Not what I'm thanking you for."

Mardon looked between the two of them.

"Things got a little out of hand before." Cold and Mardon nodded to one another. Well, that seemed almost cordial. Roy was slightly surprised.

"So you two aren't actively trying to kill each other anymore?"

"Let's just say, we have had a lot of time to discuss our issues."

"Not much else to do here."

"Yes, and we have come to some…understanding of some issues that need to be addressed with the Rogues."

Something in Roy's chest flared. Roy tried to ignore it. They were still in the pipeline, they still had to escape. Lisa appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around Roy in an exaggerated hug. Roy gave her a small one-handed pat on the back.

"Knew you weren't dead Roy. Speaking of…" Lisa nudged Digger with her shoe. "…we should probably do something about this."

Shawna, Mick, and Hartley joined the group. Roy handed Mick his gun. Hartley threw the bag with the weapons to Cold and put on his gauntlets. Cold and Lisa reclaimed and checked their weapons.

Mick bent down and threw Digger over his shoulder. He nodded to Roy

"We can save the touching reunions for later. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Wait! You assholes can't just leave us here!" Roy squinted at the…person who spoke. He supposed it had to be a person. Though it looked more like a pile of dirt. A pile of dirt shaped by a small child to look like a human being. And it was on fire.

"Why is a flaming piece of dirt talking?"

"Oh ignore Joey. He's no fun at all." Lisa grabbed Roy's arm. She blew a kiss to all of the other still incarcerated criminals. "Sorry sweethearts, but this is a Rogues only event."

The other prisoners started screaming obscenities at them. Except for one man.

"Leonard. Come now. You're a smart man. You know letting me out would provide the perfect distraction. They would all come after me first. Come now my dear boy, you want to let me out. I thought our talks had been quite cordial."

The man was older, probably in his sixties, with light blond hair that was graying in a few places. He seemed so unassuming. But there was something in his eyes. A madness that contorted his entire face into something more sinister. Roy thought he recognized…holy shit. That was James Jesse. Didn't know they even let that guy near other people. Digger wasn't kidding when he said they brought the most dangerous criminals here.

Cold barely glanced backwards.

"No."

Jesse slammed a hand into the glass.

"That's stupid Lenny. Stupid, stupid, stupid little boy. Never did grow up did you Lenny? Considering your father, I'm not surprised. I won't forget this. And I'll make damn sure my fellow inmates don't either. Oh the games we will play on you and your little Rogues gallery. The fun we will have."

The man's smile was wide, it seemed to change his entire face. He no longer looked like an unassuming old man. He laughter reverberated through his cell. He looked downright demonic.

Lisa grabbed her brother's arm, pulling him away from the cells.

"Come on Len, we have a jail break to finish."

The original Trickster started chanting.

"Death to the Rogues. Death to the Rogues." By the time the Rogues had crossed the bridge, several of the other inmates had joined in.

"Death to the Rogues. Death to the Rogues."

It echoed all around them.

Roy looked into the cells. He didn't even recognize the majority of people in them. How did the Rogues end up with so many damn enemies?

"I didn't realize you guys were so popular here."

Shawna draped an arm around Roy's shoulder.

"Oh you have no idea Roy. They were all so jealous of us."

Hartley closed the door to the pipeline behind them. Roy released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. They were free. Well they were out of the pipeline and they had their powers back. That was close enough.

Roy turned to Cold.

"There was a man in a metal suit that I took care of, and a man with a gun that Digger took out. So far we haven't seen anyone else. But the Flash will be finished up with our diversions soon.

"All right. Everyone down to the garage."

They made it down stairs. Even made it to the vans still parked down there. They piled into a single van, Hartley opened the loading bay doors. They could see sunlight.

That's when it all went to hell.

"Freeze! Step out of the vehicle, with your hands in the air."

There were dozens of cops. Cop cars, helicopters, and…that, that was a tank. Didn't realize those were standard issue for a police department. All the cops were in what looked like riot gear. Roy was sure they were specialized suits, meant to withstand more than just bullets.

"Shit."

Roy had to agree with Mick. Cold looked out the windows. He glanced back at the others.

"Shawna, we are going to clear you a path. Get Digger someplace safe, then come back, but stay hidden."

"Got it boss."

"Everyone else, keep the cops as distracted as possible. Avoid killing if you can, but remember, if it comes to it, you are the one that lives. Mardon, I want you to hit them hard at first, get them disoriented. Lightening bolts and wind gusts to keep them from encroaching on our position, I want those helicopters out of the sky. Roy, use fear. See if we can't thin the herd a bit. Mick, I want you to focus on the cars. Take out as many of them as you can. Melt everything that will melt. Lisa and I will keep the others corralled with our guns, keep anyone from sneaking up behind us. Lisa, see if you can't take care of that tank. Hartley, I want their coms down and any lines of communication destroyed."

"I can cause feedback in their headsets, might blow out a few eardrums."

"Good. Wait for my signal on that. We might need to use that when the Flash shows up. I want them to be so distracted that they don't notice Shawna coming in and grabbing us out one by one. Shawna, once you have a clear line of sight, I want you to get Hartley out of the line of fire, but still close by so he can keep an eye on communications. Then grab Roy, get him behind the lines. Roy, once you are back there, use rage on the cops that see you. The cops won't be able to defend themselves from an attack on both sides. They will stop focusing on us and try to contain their fellow cops."

"Got it."

"Shawna, come back and grab Mick and Lisa, drop them by Roy just in case he is met with any resistance. Once they are out, Mardon I want you to create a thick fog, I don't want anyone to be able to see a foot in front of them."

"Won't be able to grab you guys in that."

"It's alright. Once the fog is in place, that is the signal for you all to head out. Hartley, meet up with the others behind the cops. Mardon will create a path that he and I can see through. My cold gun will turn the fog into a wall of ice around the cops. Then we can make a break for it. We meet at the fence surrounding the edge of the parking lot, and Shawna can get us all out."

"Sounds like a great plan Lenny, but what about when the Flash shows up?"

"Stick together. No one is getting left behind today. Is that understood?"

"You have thirty seconds to get out of the car or we will open fire!"

Everyone nodded at Cold. Roy took a deep breath.

Cold opened the passenger door and stepped out. All of the Rogues quickly followed suit. Only Shawna stayed in the van with Digger.

"Snart! Freeze!"

"I think that's my line detective."

Roy rolled his eyes. But couldn't help the small smirk that formed.

Well, they were either going to pull off the most brazen jail break of all time, or they were all going to die in a hail of bullets. Roy looked at the people around him.

They were going to escape.

The Rogues were together. Nothing was going to stop them.

Cold had his hands in the air, he held up three fingers on his left hand.

Shawna disappeared with Digger. A second later there was lightening and wind swirling all around the police.

Being in a situation like that is hard to explain. Roy was sure on the outside it would look like a well formulated plan. All their powers working together to create the illusion of order. But when you are standing in the middle of it, it just sounds like thunderous noise and chaos. Guns were firing all around them, bright flashes of light made it hard to see.

The cops moved backwards with the wind from Mardon's attack. Roy was able to get almost a quarter of the cops under his power. Most dropped their guns and ran as quickly as they could. Roy stayed near the protection of the van, his powers didn't afford him any protect from stray bullets. He saw Mick's fire melting all the wheels of the cars the cops were trying to hide behind. He saw Lisa's gun completely cover the barrel of the tank in gold. Cold's gun was keeping most of the cops from getting close enough to use their weapons.

Roy had to give it to them. The cops had been fairly well prepared. But they weren't ready to defend against the Rogues.

Suddenly Shawna was in front of him.

"Your turn."

Roy reached out his hand. He didn't even feel a hint of nausea when Shawna teleported him. She was gone almost instantly after she dropped him behind the cops.

Roy hit any cop that turned towards him with rage. Those that turned to try and contain their affected brethren were also put under his power. Roy kept waiting for Shawna to reappear with Mick and Lisa. After a few moments he began to get worried.

And then he felt it. A small gust of wind.

Damn it. The Flash was here.

Roy put as many cops under his power as he could. They needed the Flash as distracted as possible.

Roy heard someone coming up behind him, he turned to see Hartley.

"Shawna's down. One of the cops got a lucky shot and hit her with a tranquilizer."

"The others?"

"Still fighting. I'm going to hit the cops' coms, that should provide a moment's distraction."

Hartley hit something on the netbook, Roy saw all of the cops grab their ears in pain. Even the ones under Roy's power were momentarily stopped.

A thick fog began to appear. Roy could swear he saw ice forming in it.

Hartley looked to Roy.

"Should we head for the gate?"

"Yes…steal a car."

"What?"

"Grab a cop car. If Shawna's down we are going to need to get out of here quick."

"Not exactly a discrete means of travel."

Roy ran forward, knocking several cops out of his way. He climbed into the front seat and started driving one of the cars back towards the fence. He saw another cop car beside him, Hartley had actually done what he was told for once. They pulled to a stop in front of the fence, they were only a few feet from freedom.

None of the others were there.

Damn it.

Roy and Hartley looked back towards where the fighting was. It looked like the fog was being swirled up into the air. The Flash was clearing it away, he would have a bead on the others soon. Roy saw blasts of light, no doubt from each of the non-meta trio's weapons. Finally, he saw Mardon carrying Shawna out of the fog.

Roy ducked back into the car, and drove straight towards Mardon. He slammed on the brakes and opened the doors. With the fog gone, Roy could see that Cold had managed to create a wall of ice completely around the cops. They wouldn't be interfering any time soon, it was just the Rogues and the Flash now. Hartley's car pulled up beside Roy.

"The others?"

Mardon opened the rear car door and laid Shawna down on the back seat.

"Mick's gun is down, Lisa's too. Flash has got both of them tied up. Cold's trying to reason with the kid, but I don't think it's going to work this time."

"You got anything left for round two?"

Mardon smiled.

"Oh hell yea, I just didn't want you boys to miss any of the fun."

"Idiots. All of you."

Roy and Mardon smirked at Hartley.

"Come on kid, you know you want to put that self righteous prick in his place."

"Well if you are going to sweet talk me like that Mardon I guess I have no choice."

A van came crashing through the fence behind them. Roy could see Cisco and Dr. Snow in the front of the van. There was also a woman he didn't recognize.

Roy nodded to Mardon and Hartley.

"I'll take care of them."

Mardon and Hartley ran back towards where the other Rogues were still fighting. Roy turned and stood directly in front of the path of the van. He managed to catch Cisco's eyes.

The van slowed down and rolled to a stop in front of Roy.

Cisco, the mystery woman, and Dr. Snow were all under his influence. Roy opened the side door.

"If you would all please exit the vehicle."

They did so without any resistance. Roy looked in the back seat, there were several devices laid out. Roy recognized the wand used to counteract Mardon's powers, the light array that would undo his own influence. But there were many things he had never seen before. The STAR Labs kids must have grabbed everything they had, not knowing which of the metas had escaped.

Well, these could all come in handy if the other metas did come after them.

"Cisco could you be a dear and put all this in the back of that cop car?"

"Ok."

"Thank you. Dr. Snow could you call the Flash over your headset? Tell him I'm over here with you." Roy picked up one of the tranquilizer guns and pointed it at them. "And tell him I have a gun pointed at you, if you wouldn't mind."

"Flash. It's Caitlin. Roy Bivolo has a gun pointed at me and Iris."

Roy couldn't hear what was said over the intercom, but suddenly all the fighting in the distance seemed to stop. He caught only Caitlin's half of the conversation.

"No…I haven't tried…He asked so nicely…Everything will be ok…Yes, I suppose it's possible I'm under his influence…Cisco and Iris too…Ok…"

Dr. Snow pulled the earpiece out and handed it to Roy.

"He wants to talk to you, he sounds very upset about something."

Roy smiled.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about Doctor." Caitlin smiled at Roy's words. Her smile was very serene.

"Hello?"

"Bivolo if you have hurt them…"

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you. I'd like to speak with Len, if you don't mind."

"If you think I am…"

"Now, please. Everyone is rather calm at the moment, but I would hate to see what happens if the mood were to change."

Roy could get into the pun game too. He didn't have Cold's flair for it, but it was rather fun. A few seconds later, Cold's voice came over the headset.

"Roy."

"Everyone alright over there?"

"Just fine. In fact, we are all heading your way now. The Flash here couldn't continue fighting us if he tried."

"I'm not going to…"

Roy heard the kid grunt in pain.

"You see, every meta has their limits and apparently the Flash has reached his. Running around all over the city, diffusing bombs. Outrunning bullets that cops were firing at each other, trying to stay ahead of Mardon's lightening and our guns. It's actually rather impressive you lasted this long. You put up a hell of a fight. Nothing to be ashamed of in your performance. You just weren't quite good enough. Until next time."

Roy saw the Rogues walking towards him, the Flash was kneeling on the ground. Kid looked pissed. Even without the com, Roy heard the kid yell at Cold.

"This isn't over Snart."

Cold turned briefly and looked over his shoulder.

"Wouldn't be any fun if it was kid."

Roy kept the gun trained on the three STAR Labs kids until the Rogues reached him. It was all for show anyway, there was no need to shoot them.

The Rogues looked in pretty bad shape. Bruises and tears in their clothes. Mick might actually still be on fire.

But they were all still alive.

Cold nodded at Roy.

"Good work on getting the leverage. Might have had to use a few more drastic measures against Scarlet if you hadn't. Wait until we are a few miles out, then release everyone under your influence."

Mardon turned back and looked at STAR Labs.

"Where do we go now? The whole damn city will be looking for us."

"Don't worry. I have a plan. Besides, we have some unfinished business to take care of. Hartley, stop messing with Cisco, we have to go."

Hartley smiled unrepentantly, but stopped doing whatever it was he was doing to Cisco's headset. Roy climbed into the back of one of the cop cars, Lisa took the driver's seat. Mick took the driver's seat of the other car. Lisa ran her hand over the wheel.

"Never been in the front seat of one of these before."

Cold looked at his sister.

"Lisa, head towards the safe house. We'll stop and grab Digger and then meet you there."

Lisa gave her brother a half-hearted salute. Roy turned towards Lisa.

"Thought the safe house was destroyed."

"Well that one was. But lucky for us, big brother is a bit of a stickler for a back up plan, he had another one picked out for just such an occasion."

Roy leaned back in the seat. Shawna was leaning against the side door, still unconscious. He readjusted her so that her head was laying on his lap. She would be more comfortable that way. Lisa and Hartley were in the front. Mick, Cold and Mardon were in the other car.

They were bruised, battered, and bloody. Roy had been shot at, psychotic criminals had threatened him, he had burned a man's flesh with a gun, every cop in the city would be after them, the Flash would probably make it his mission to hunt them all down.

Roy should be worried. He should be wondering how the hell they were going to live through the day, let alone a week in these circumstances.

But he wasn't worried. He wasn't nervous.

He was inspired.

* * *

Sometimes Hartley thought about his college essay. The one he had written describing all the great things he was going to do after he graduated. How his education wouldn't just further his own life, but the lives of every human on the planet. It was an excellent essay, one he still believed was true.

His words were in no way undercut by the fact that he was now a convicted criminal.

He wondered if he could put that on the next essay. If he ever decided to go back for another PhD. Probably look good that he had gone through such a hardship. Hartley leaned back against the wall of the prison cell. He couldn't believe that ridiculous Arrow had been the one to catch them. That was what burned the most. Hartley had the ability to create technological advancements that were decades ahead of anything out there. Advancements that most people couldn't even comprehend. And he was taken down by a man wielding a weapon from the Stone Ages.

Oh the indignity of it all.

All of the Rogues were now locked up, except for Digger. Who had somehow managed to escape. Hartley didn't hold out too much hope that Digger would come swooping in for the rescue. Man was probably halfway across the globe by now.

So they were stuck there, until Cold came up with a way to get them out.

Or if Roy came to get them.

Which was unlikely. There had been no sign of him since the fight. And the explosion that had taken out almost three blocks was right where he used to live. The far more likely scenario was that Roy was dead. Hartley was used to basing his beliefs on facts. On what he could prove. Based on the data, it all pointed to Roy being dead.

Mardon had disagreed.

There was a small area on the ground floor of the pipeline that had been designated as the "lunch room". It was just like the "exercise room". It was just an area that was surrounded by a chain link fence and barbed wire. Still, it meant that three times a day, the prisoners were allowed out of their cells. Hartley had been surprised to see Mardon and Cold sitting at the same table when he had gone down for breakfast on his first day.

Lisa, Shawna, and Mick were there as well. Hartley had hesitated for a moment. Sure, Lisa and Mick had been with him when they were on the run. But that had been forced circumstance. It wasn't like Hartley would have chosen to hang around Digger of his own free will.

Cold nodded at him and Hartley walked up to the table. Looks like the Rogues had managed to bury the hatchet.

"Well, looks like someone has decided to get the band back together."

"Lisa was filling us in on what had been happening out there."

"I told them about the posters and the people going insane about capturing us. I also filled Lenny in on the Reverse Flash's motivations."

The Reverse Flash. Hartley really wanted to discuss these nicknames with Cisco at some point. Most of them were completely childish.

Which made perfect sense when you realized who came up with them.

"Anything else we should know?"

Hartley looked at the group.

"Harkness had mentioned that he thought ARGUS might try to take control of the prison."

"I had been hearing rumors of that myself."

How Cold was getting highly classified information while locked away Hartley didn't know. But he was certain Cold's intel was just as accurate as Digger's. Probably more so since Cold wasn't drunk all the time.

Mardon looked around the room, then whispered to Hartley.

"What about Roy?"

Hartley shared a look with Lisa. She looked slightly repentant. Hartley sighed.

"Nothing. I did a scan for him in every database, every facial recognition software, I even scoured the morgue and hospital logs. I couldn't find a single shred of evidence that he has left the city. And…"

Hartley hesitated. He hadn't told this part to Lisa or Digger. Mainly because he had wanted to gather his own information first. But he hadn't had the chance to corroborate it before he was captured.

"And what?" Mardon's voice was impatient.

"I managed to hack into ARGUS's database and the STAR Labs files about two weeks ago. They…they have Roy listed as missing, presumed dead."

"Bullshit."

"Mardon."

Mark didn't look any less angry but he did lower his voice at Cold's chastisement.

"They put that because they're idiots. Because everyone underestimates Roy. Hell, we did and look how that went down. No. Roy's alive."

Hartley didn't say anything. Not really sure what he would say. All the evidence supported the idea that Roy was dead. That the Rogues were down to the six people sitting at this table.

Cold turned to Mardon.

"For the time being, we will assume that Roy is still alive. But we have to also assume that he might not know that we have been taken. If he has been able to go underground to the point of being presumed dead, then he probably isn't getting updates on the situation in Central."

"Idiot doesn't even have a TV."

Mick's words were gruff, but there was an underlying current to them. Hartley hated to use the word warmth, but it seemed to fit Mick's intent.

Hartley looked around the mess hall. There were less than ten tables scattered around. Most of the inmates were sitting in pairs or by themselves. There was one man, who was staring unabashedly at the Rogues. There was also a younger man sitting beside him. Dark hair, not too bad looking. He was also looking at the Rogues, but his look didn't have the malevolence that the older man's did. The younger man looked genuinely curious. Lisa followed Hartley's gaze.

"Who is the creeper?"

Cold didn't even turn.

"James Jesse. Under no circumstances does anyone talk to him. He's…"

"Coo Coo for Coco Puffs." Shawna's words were light but there was a tension in her voice. There was something about that man that was disturbing. Hartley knew the stories about the Trickster of course. People claimed he was genius. Could talk you into killing yourself in less than an hour. Hartley doubted the man was truly a genius, most of the stories were probably embellished by other prisoners.

"Noted."

"Kid, something we need to talk about."

Hartely turned his gaze back to Cold.

"The fight at the safe house. Need to know if you are holding any grudges."

So they were going to talk about the fight. That was certainly different. Fights were rare in Hartley's home growing up. Well at least physical or verbal fighting. Such embarrassing displays of emotion were not to be tolerated in the Rathaway home. The fights in his house had been passive aggressive to the point where he thought his parents lived in a constant state of misery, trying to make the other pay for something that happened twenty years ago.

Hartley truly wasn't holding a grudge for what happened at the safe house. It had been oddly…refreshing to get all of his anger out. It had been a bit strange when he showed up at the meeting with the Reverse Flash and had seen Lisa and Mardon there. He had known of course that other members of the Rogues would be invited. He had brought extra weapons just in case one of them decided to attack.

And then when the fighting had started it had just been instinct. Protect their backs and they would have his. Hell, as much as it pained him to admit, the only reason he had made it out of the meeting was because Digger had pulled him out of the line of fire.

Not that the man had saved his life. Hartley would have figured out a way to escape on his own if the drunk brute hadn't grabbed him. The man had merely sped up the process of Hartley's escape.

The weeks of hiding out, of trying to figure out a way to free the others had certainly helped smooth over any lingering tension. They had fallen back into a familiar pattern. Stick together, stick to the rules, and rescue the others. It was always easy when there was a goal, when there was a common enemy.

"Not the worst family squabble I've been a part of by any means."

Which was true. That honor belonged to the fight that lead to him being disowned by his parents.

It was…a conundrum that Hartley had yet to figure out completely. These people, these criminals, had his back more than his own flesh and blood ever would.

"Good. When we get out of here, we will discuss some changes. Namely, next time we get to where we want to beat the hell out of each other, no powers or weapons allowed."

"Because there will definitely be a next time." Lisa smiled at her brother sweetly. Mardon shook his head.

"When we get out. Got any ideas on that kid?"

Hartley looked around the pipeline. He could see the modifications that had been made, could see the ugly blemishes on his once pristine design. He couldn't believe Cisco had been allowed anywhere near such advanced technology.

"Give me some time. I'm sure I'll think of something."

"Not like any of us are going anywhere any time soon. Take your time." Even Shawna's voice lacked its general edge when she usually spoke to Hartley. Maybe a little time apart had been what the Rogues needed.

Or maybe realizing that there was no one else in the world who would look out for them had done it. Especially considering the number of enemies they had seemed to accumulate recently.

The only people who would look out for the Rogues, were the Rogues.

Hartley didn't end up needing to come up with a plan. Although he still made mental notes of all the changes that had been made to the pipeline.

Hartley had never been more relieved to be wrong than when Roy showed up for the rescue. Even if he had brought Digger with him. Hartley knew that the Rogues didn't keep score, that they didn't keep a tab on who owed who for what. But Hartley knew he owed Roy. And he would find a way to repay him.

He would have to tell Cold about the code he had inserted into the security system during the escape. It would make any future break outs much easier. Not that he thought they would ever get caught like this again.

This had been an anomaly. An outlier. A mistake that would not be repeated. They would learn from this and move on.

Hartley based his beliefs on facts, on what he could prove. He was a scientist above all things. And all the evidence proved that when the Rogues worked together, when they fought for each other, when they truly had each other's backs...

The Rogues were unstoppable.


	9. Chapter 9

There was an…oddness to being back amongst the Rogues after being alone for so long. Roy couldn't really explain it. He was probably the only one who felt it. Everyone else seemed content to leave the past behind. To forget the fight and slip back into their old roles and patterns.

Maybe it was because Roy was the only one who hadn't had any contact with the others in the months since the fight. It made him feel…slightly removed from them. Like he was missing out on inside jokes. Which was ridiculous. The others had been in prison, not away at summer camp.

Still, it was a bit jarring to see Mardon and Cold speaking so calmly to one another. Considering the last image of them he had, prior to yesterday, was of Cold trying to strangle Mardon to death. The two of them had spent the longest amount of time locked in the pipeline. For almost a month it had been just the two of them. No contact with any of the other Rogues, no way of knowing if the others were safe or even still alive.

Roy hadn't had the chance to talk to either man alone yet. They had all arrived at the safe house yesterday and spent most of their time bandaging wounds and trying to keep Digger alive. Shawna was still out of it, so they had connected Digger to an IV and hoped for the best. Cold had said if it looked like Digger was getting worse he had the number of a doctor who wouldn't ask any questions.

The new safe house was an old abandoned warehouse. Someone had turned the old office section into bedrooms. Well, there was a mattress on the ground, and all the office equipment had been pushed to one side of each room. Roy's room had an old desk and a large free standing printer/copier in the far corner. But, it had been a long day and Roy could have fallen asleep on bare concrete. It was still early in the evening when he fell asleep on his lumpy mattress.

Which is probably why he had woken up so early this morning. The sun was barely out, but Roy found himself wide awake. He wandered out of his bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want to wake the others, didn't want to disturb them. Roy heard a noise coming from the main warehouse. He walked towards it and was surprised to see Mick awake as well. Mick was pulling the license plates off of the cop cars they had stolen. Mick looked up as Roy walked towards him.

"Going to change the VIN numbers too. These babies will come in real handy."

Roy nodded. Cop cars would be useful in some of their heists. Be easy to rob a place if people thought the cops had already arrived to handle the situation. Hell, steal a couple police uniforms and people might just hand them the items they were trying to steal.

Roy's mind wandered back to his cabin, specifically to the paintings and cash he had left behind. He needed to get those paintings, but he was reluctant to bring them here. What happened the next time the Rogues imploded? Or if the Flash found this place. Or the cops. He needed a safe place to store his work. Somewhere separate, somewhere removed. He looked at Mick.

"What did you do with the painting you bought from me?"

"Got it in a storage unit on the west end. Set up an alias and some fake credit cards, all which will trace back to a fictitious man who is by all accounts currently living abroad in a country that makes contacting him difficult. Got a device that scrambles the video feed when I go there, makes it look like it was caused by feedback from a nearby power plant. No way for the cops to tie the unit to me."

That was smart. Sometimes Roy forgot that Mick was just as an accomplished thief as either of the Snart siblings.

"Smart."

Mick grunted in response. He should really go get those paintings. Roy didn't know where this restlessness was coming from. This sudden urge to get away before the others woke up. To be alone for a little while longer. It wasn't like he hadn't just spent months by himself. And he had made the choice to come back here of his own free will. But there was still this itch to just go.

Maybe it was that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the others to realize that they didn't need to stick together now that they were free. That the Rogues couldn't work long term. Or maybe it was that oddness that he couldn't quite explain.

Roy figured he could delay the inevitable for a bit longer.

"I need to get some things from…"

"Len doesn't want us splitting up."

"I'll only be gone for…"

"Especially you."

What?

What the hell did that mean? Was Roy the one that Cold trusted the least? The one who needed to be watched? Did Cold think that Roy would use his powers on the others again? Roy felt his annoyance get dangerously close to becoming anger.

Mick was pulling something out of the cop car. Hartley had disabled the low jack yesterday but now Mick was removing the actual box. Roy tried to keep his voice calm.

"I'm not the one that got caught and locked up."

Mick snorted.

"Ain't that."

This was ridiculous. He needed to get those paintings. He couldn't lose any more of his work. He worried the owner of the cabin might go through Roy's things if he was gone long enough. Might try to sell them on the street for a few bucks if he thought Roy wasn't coming back. It felt wrong leaving his paintings there. It felt like he had left an appendage behind.

Roy opened his mouth to tell Mick he was going regardless of what Cold said, when Mick ripped the low jack out of the car and threw it on the ground. He then quickly turned towards Roy.

"I'll go with you. Can show you where I store my earnings."

Roy was certain his mouth was still open. Mick…Mick was offering to go with him?

"I thought you said Cold didn't want us splitting up."

"He doesn't want anyone going off on their own. Especially with no way to communicate with the rest. I'll grab a burner phone and then we can go."

Roy just stood there for a moment and watched Mick walk back into the office complex.

That was unexpected.

Roy wondered when Cold had decided that no one should go on their own. Probably when he was locked up. God, Roy wondered if there were new rules he was going to have to remember. Although the splitting up rule didn't make much sense. Most of them had been together when Cold got caught. Didn't stop them from all getting thrown in the pipeline.

Roy leaned against the cop car. Well, at least with Mick he wouldn't have to talk much. It was as close to going alone as he was liable to get right now. He heard someone walking up behind him but knew it wasn't Mick. Unless Mick had changed into some high heels.

"Heard you boys were planning a little road trip."

Lisa handed Roy a styrofoam cup with coffee in it.

"Just for a few hours."

"I'm a little hurt you didn't invite me along."

Roy snorted.

"I didn't invite Mick."

Lisa smiled calmly.

"Sorry Roy, no solo missions for the time being. Everything's a little crazy right now, can't have people getting caught again. Would look bad if we got captured again so soon. Although that prison break was completely spectacular."

"How's Digger?"

"Still out, but Shawna looked like she was starting to stir. She'll be able to check him out, figure out if we need to dump his ass off at a hospital."

There was a moment when neither spoke. And then the moment continued. The silence was beginning to feel uncomfortable to Roy. Lisa didn't look like she minded it. But Roy could feel something between them. It was that oddness again.

"Are you two sleeping together?"

Roy didn't know why he asked. He didn't care who Lisa slept with anymore than he cared who Mick slept with. That had always been a problem of his. If there was too much awkward silence he would just ask the first thing that came to mind, regardless of whether it was appropriate or not. Which usually only exacerbated the situation.

Lisa gave a small laugh.

"He wishes. I've got a few rules separate from big bro's, and 'No Sleeping with Rogues' is the main one. And surprisingly, Digger has proven to be a Rogue. Which I don't think anyone was expecting."

"Yea."

Lisa was looking at him. She seemed to be analyzing his every breath. Roy thought he saw concern in her eyes. But he ignored it, she was most likely faking it. The fight had proven to Roy that he didn't know these people as well as he thought he had. Lisa didn't really care about him.

"You hurt or anything? I know I'm no Nurse Shawna but I can apply a Band-Aid with the best of them."

"Just tired."

"I can relate to that. I think Lenny got those mattresses out of a dumpster. Mine was so lumpy and uncomfortable. I barely got any sleep. I'm an absolute mess."

Lisa looked the same as she always did. Every hair perfectly in place. Her makeup so well applied you couldn't tell she was wearing it. She didn't look like someone who had spent several weeks in prison. She looked like the same confident woman she always was. A complete contrast to Roy. Roy had yet to look in a mirror since…since well before Digger had shown up at the cabin. His hair might be sticking up in twelve different directions.

Roy looked a Lisa.

"I didn't want to say anything…"

Lisa punched him in the shoulder.

"Ass."

She was still smiling so Roy assumed she wasn't too offended. They sat in silence for a few more moments. Roy sipped at the coffee she had brought him. It was quiet. The oddness seemed suddenly subdued, perhaps he had just been imagining it.

Mick appeared through the doors.

"Got a car stored a few blocks from here."

Roy pushed off the cop car. He handed the now empty cup back to Lisa, then followed Mick towards the exit.

"You boys be careful now. I will be very upset if I have to ruin my new manicure rescuing you."

Roy gave a backwards wave and followed Mick to the car.

It was almost completely silent the entire drive back to the cabin. The only noise had come from a text message Mick had received half an hour into the drive.

"Damn mother hen."

"Cold?"

"Wants an update on our ETA. Man's not happy if he doesn't have everything planned down to the millisecond."

"It will take another hour and half to reach the cabin."

"I'll tell him we will be back sometime tonight. That'll annoy him."

Roy had smirked and continued driving. Eventually they reached the cabin. There was no sign that anyone had been there since Roy had left with Digger a few days ago. Still, he had gone through everything in the house, double checking that nothing had been touched.

Roy had been slightly hesitant to let Mick see the paintings of the Rogues. He briefly considered leaving them covered in the blanket. But had quickly discarded that idea. He couldn't carry all six at the same time. So he had removed the blanket and Mick had helped him put the paintings in the car.

It wasn't like Mick would understand the meaning behind the paintings. He couldn't possibly understand that each painting represented one of the Rogues. And Roy was sure he was imagining it when he thought he saw Mick's eyes linger on the painting of the old man.

Roy saw a pair of his shades sitting on the table by the bedside. His hand hesitated by them for a moment. Then he picked them up and put them on. He didn't know why. Cold didn't require him to wear them anymore. Hadn't for a long time. But he felt this sudden need to have his eyes covered.

Roy grabbed the money and his supplies and piled them into the trunk of the car. He hesitated a moment before sliding back into the passenger seat.

It had been so…calm here. He hadn't been shot at. Hadn't had to worry about being captured or killed. Or worry that his teammates might turn on him. It had just been him, depending on only himself. Just him and his paints. It was all he had ever needed before. He had been completely alone.

And completely bored.

Not like he could stay here any longer. Both Mick and Digger now knew where the cabin was. Which meant all the others would know the location before too long. And he could only imagine what would happen when the drunk Rogues tried to drive out here in the middle of the night. He wondered how many trees would be destroyed in the process. Probably wouldn't be a forest left after Mardon tried to find the place the first time he was drunk. Roy gave a small smile, then climbed into the car.

The return drive was just as silent. Only the radio played to break up the monotony. Mick took Roy to the storage unit to hide his paintings. Mick had a few extra aliases that he let Roy choose from. Roy set up an account under the name Bob Roberts. He had briefly thought about using an alias that was a play on his own name. But then realized how easy that would be for someone to figure out.

Now was not the time to be cocky. Especially not with the fate of his paintings.

Roy carefully placed each of the paintings around the small storage unit, using pallets to keep them off of the ground. Mick brought in the duffel bag full of cash. Roy opened it and pulled out a few wads. He left the rest, he could come back if he needed more.

"Paints too?"

Roy thought about the supplies still sitting on the back seat of the car. It would make sense to leave them here as well. Roy probably shouldn't paint at the safe house. Who knows when all of his work could be undone by another ridiculous testosterone fueled fight. He should at least wait until he was sure the Rogues were even going to stick together. He should probably do all of his painting here in the storage unit. That would be the smart choice, the safe choice.

Roy sighed.

"No. I'll take those back to the safe house." He was such an idiot. He should…

Mick clapped a hand on Roy's shoulder. Roy looked up at him in surprise. Mick nodded, patted Roy on the shoulder twice, then turned and headed towards the exit.

That was…that was odd.

Roy really wasn't sure what to make of that.

He shook his head and pulled down the door to the unit. He locked it and followed Mick to the car.

It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the safe house. There had only been one moment when several cop cars had gone rushing by them on the drive. But the cops had been going the opposite direction and didn't see Mick and Roy drive slowly past. Roy carried the bag with his paints back into his room. Mick dropped off the only blank canvas Roy had left. Roy set it on an easel in the corner. He pulled out several paints and brushes and started arranging them on the old desk.

"Get everything you need?"

Cold was leaning against the doorway.

"Yes."

"Good. We're going to have a little meeting here in an hour. Discuss a few lingering issues."

"Alright."

Roy started mixing a few of the paints together. He walked over towards the canvas.

"I'll send someone to get you when it's time for the meeting."

Roy didn't respond. Just put the brush to the canvas and started painting. Usually when he started, he had an image in his mind. An idea of what the painting would become. This time, he just let his hand move independent of any conscious thought. He covered the entire canvas in black. Then he used shades of gray to slowly bring the image forward.

"There's pizza in the break room."

Roy turned towards Shawna's voice.

"Is it time for the meeting?"

"Yep. Boss man said you might need reminding."

Roy looked at the painting. It was still too dark to see the image. The lighter shade only hinting at something hiding within the black. He would come back to it after the meeting he supposed.

Roy put his paints down.

"You doing ok Roy?"

"Just fine. Tired is all."

"Oh. Ok."

There was something stilted in their conversation. Like two people meeting for the first time. Neither sure what to say to the other. Roy figured he was to blame for any awkwardness. Shawna was the more outgoing of the two of them, she was better with people than Roy would ever be. She clearly didn't feel the same disconnect from the others that Roy felt.

Roy followed Shawna into the break room, everyone else was already there. Except Digger, who was most likely still unconscious. Cold nodded to them as they entered. Roy took a seat to the left of Shawna. Mark and Mick were by the counter eating the pizza. Hartley and Lisa were sitting on a loveseat, Hartley had a computer out and was typing something into it.

"Now that we are all here. Shawna, how is Harkness?"

"Good as can be expected. The IV's helping. As long as we keep those burn wounds clean he should be good as new in a few weeks."

"Good. Keep an eye on him and let me know if anything changes." Cold looked around the room. He took a deep breath.

"I know that things…got a bit out of hand before. We let our personal issues get in the way of the score. We let our annoyances build until we imploded. I know we might not all like each other on the best of days, but it is clear now that we need each other. In the past year our enemies have multiplied from the cops, to the Flash, ARGUS, our fellow criminals in the underworld, half the metas in the city, and apparently this Reverse Flash as well. We have all seen how quickly we get caught when we split up, when we are divided."

"But, we have also seen how powerful we are when we work together. So we need to find a way to work out our issues in a way that doesn't end with a smoking crater where the safe house used to be. If we want to beat the shit out of each other, no powers or weapons allowed. And never before or during a job. You wait until the job is done and we are safely away, then you take out your anger."

Roy didn't say anything about that compromise. Without his powers everyone in this room could kick his ass. So he leaned back in his chair and said nothing. He didn't generally get involved in those squabbles anyway.

"Now, I know we have a lot of enemies, but I believe I have a plan to significantly reduce that number. But before I go into that, there is something else. The Rogues…are unique. And we have the potential to be great. However, if there is anyone who no longer wishes to be part of it, then now is the time to go. This team won't survive if we don't trust each other."

Roy looked around the room. Did he honestly trust everyone here? Did he believe that Mardon could keep his anger and need for revenge in check? Did he think that Mick could keep a lid on his pyromania? That Cold wouldn't betray them all to protect Lisa? That Lisa was ever being honest? That Shawna wouldn't disappear again? That Hartley would stick by them when everything went to hell? That Digger wouldn't betray them because he got bored one day?

No.

He supposed he didn't.

But then, where the hell else was he going to go? He had chosen his side. He would just find a way to live with it.

So Roy kept his mouth shut. He watched as all the others looked around the room. As they tried to decide if they could trust each other.

"Hell, if I can't trust you assholes, there is no one in the world I can trust." Mardon smirked. Everyone smiled and nodded. Interesting. They had all come to a different conclusion than Roy. They all believed they could trust each other.

Maybe that was the disconnect he was feeling. They had all used the fight to get their anger out. They had been able to release every pent up feeling, every annoyance, every slight. They had laid all their grievances out. Then they had spent the next few months relying on one another, either to stay out of prison or to stay sane while in it.

Roy hadn't let his emotions get the better of him. He had remained in control. He hadn't even gotten a punch in before he was knocked through that wall. Then he had spent the next few months alone. Trying not to think about these people, trying to forget any kind of bond he ever had with them. He hadn't succeeded of course, but he hadn't ever forgiven them for what happened to his paintings either.

His mother had once told him it wasn't healthy to bottle everything up. That he needed to talk about his emotions. To let them out. He had told her he got all of his emotions out on the canvas. He didn't need to express them any other way.

Maybe this time, the canvas wasn't enough. Maybe this time he needed to do more. But the time to beat the shit out of the others for destroying his paintings had passed. They had all forgiven each other and moved on. Roy would look like an ass if he brought it up now, if he told Cold that he didn't truly trust any of them.

That he still wanted to make them suffer the way he had.

Roy sighed and adjusted his shades. That was petty. They could hardly be blamed for not understanding the importance of his art.

No one ever had before.

Cold looked around the room, his smirk seemed to drop a fraction of an inch when his eyes passed over Roy.

"Good. Everyone get some rest. We will go over a plan to deal with our enemies tomorrow. We need to strike soon, when they think we are weak. When they think we will try to stay hidden."

Roy stood up, intent on going back to the painting in his room.

"Roy. A word."

The others filed out of the room. Mardon hesitated a moment at the door, but followed the others.

"Yes?"

"I've asked all the others, are you holding any grudges from the fight?"

Roy thought about lying. But realized how futile that would be.

"I suppose I might have some lingering issues."

"I understand…"

"No. You don't. I trust you to have my back in a fight or to break me out of jail if I get caught. Outside of that…"

There wasn't a point in lying. Cold probably already knew the answer before he asked the question.

"Is that why you are wearing your shades again?"

"I'm wearing them because until I get past these…residual issues, I don't want to affect anyone else with my anger. I'll get over it."

Cold didn't look happy. But he nodded.

"Fair enough. Out of all of us, you have the most right to still be angry. As long as it doesn't endanger the team."

"It won't. Unlike some people, I can control my emotions."

Cold gave a small smirk, then his face grew serious.

"I owe you for what you did Roy."

"I thought the Rogues didn't keep score."

"We don't. But there wouldn't be a Rogues any more if you hadn't intervened. The others feel the same, especially Hartley. Don't know what he is working on, but it has something to do with you."

Hartley? Why would the kid think he owed Roy anything?

Cold put a hand on Roy's shoulder.

"Even if you don't fully trust us again. Know that I trust you."

Roy wanted to call bullshit on that. Well, since they were being so honest with each other…

"Then why didn't you want me going off on my own today?"

"We had all just spent several months thinking you were dead. You can't blame us for wanting to keep you in our sights for a day or two."

Oh.

Roy knew he wasn't going to be able to hang on to his anger forever. Knew he was either going to have to let it go or…

He really couldn't think of any other options.

Despite his anger, despite his current distrust, he didn't see leaving the Rogues as a possibility. He could try to blame it on his circumstance. Try to say that he needed the protection of the Rogues from all of his enemies, but he knew that was a lie. Knew that wasn't the real reason.

He actually liked these idiots.

He liked being a Rogue. It was the closest thing to a family he had had in a long time. Maybe that had been their main problem. None of them knew how to be a part of a family. How to let the little things slide, how to ignore someone when they said something stupid, or how to never take things too far.

Mardon resisted the idea of family, but it wasn't just due to the death of his brother. Roy got the sense that, outside of Clyde, Mark never had anyone he could depend on. Shawna's father had died years ago, but there was something in her that couldn't get past it. Something that looked like guilt and regret. Len and Lisa never talked about their childhood, but Roy knew enough to know it hadn't been a stable environment. Roy thought he remembered Mick saying something about his family dying when he was young. Hartley would always associate family with contempt and abandonment. Digger…

Roy couldn't imagine Digger having anyone. Couldn't imagine the man having cousins let alone siblings or parents. Although there was something oddly…paternal in the way he interacted with Hartley. Like Digger thought he was looking out for Hartley. It made Roy think that maybe Digger had had someone at one point. Which was completely ridiculous. Digger could barely keep himself alive, let alone another person.

It had been so long since Roy had even remotely trusted anyone, he had forgotten what it was like. How much effort was involved in maintaining that trust. How much you had to fight for it.

Being a part of a family was never easy. You were never going to always agree with the choices they made. Not always going to see eye to eye.

You were going to fight. Going to want to kill each other. You might even hate each other.

But you always had each other's backs.

Roy looked Cold in the eyes.

"I can't guarantee that I will always be the stable one here."

"Noted."

Cold smiled and then left the room. Roy walked over to the pizza box and grabbed a slice.

How did they even get pizza delivered here? Roy had a brief image of a pizza delivery boy coming to the safe house, of Cold answering the door in his parka and paying the kid in stolen jewels.

Roy shook his head and ate a slice. He must still be tired from yesterday to come up with that mental image.

"So you're still pissed at us."

Mardon sat down beside Roy and grabbed a slice for himself.

"I suppose I am. You mad I didn't side with you?"

"I was at first. I thought you would show to the Reverse Flash's meeting, I might have been thinking about how I was going to pelt you with hail until you were unconscious."

"You still planning on doing that?"

"Nah. Seems a little harsh now, especially since you played the hero yesterday and rescued us. Maybe I'll just fill your room with static electricity. Get a shock every time you touch something."

"How gracious of you."

"I'm a saint. What about you? How are you going to get back at us?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"Give me a heads up if it's going to be something disgust related. I think I was sick off of prison food for almost a month I was locked up. Never thought I would miss the fast food diet we had the first time."

This might have been the first time they ever discussed their time in the pipeline. Roy narrowed his eyes and stared at Mardon. Mark looked confused by Roy's scrutiny.

"What?"

"What happened to you in the pipeline?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're being…suspiciously mature about all this."

Mardon shoved Roy lightly.

"Screw you."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Both absently eating the now cold pizza. Roy had seen how Mardon and Cold were interacting, but he still needed to know for sure. Needed to know it wasn't all an act.

"So you and Cold…"

Mardon's face grew serious. He didn't look at Roy as he spoke.

"We're good. Mostly. Not saying I'm not going to want to punch him in his smug face most of the time, but he's in charge. He...helped me when we were inside. I got in a fight the second day. Put me in solitary for a few weeks, their version of it anyway. It was just like last time. I got removed from everyone else, wasn't allowed to leave my box. It was…it was one of the small single boxes. When I got out of solitary, Cold kept me in check. Kept me from ending up back in there a couple times. He had my back, even after the shit we pulled."

"We?"

"Ok, I. Still. He never brought it up, never said I owed him anything for it. Then when the others starting showing up in the pipeline…everything just sort of fell back to the way it was. It felt…normal, you know?"

Roy did know. He knew how much he wanted things to simply go back to being normal for him. He just couldn't do it at the moment.

"I see."

"Hey. Thanks for coming to get us."

"It was actually Digger's idea."

Mardon laughed.

"Jeez. I'm surprised we weren't all killed instantly then."

Roy smirked and continued to eat his pizza.

Over the next few days, it seemed to get a bit easier. The feelings of distrust were still there, but Roy found he could ignore them when he spoke to the others. Could put it out of his mind, which used to be something that only happened when he painted.

His latest painting was being particularly difficult. Every day he would stand in front of it. He would add a line, a bit of shading, a little more depth. But he still couldn't tell what the painting was trying to become. There was something there, something struggling to be revealed. But at the moment, Roy couldn't figure out why he wasn't able to pull the image out of his mind and put it to the canvas.

A loud crash drew his attention away from the troublesome painting. He sighed and walked out into the break room they had converted into a makeshift kitchen. Digger was standing there, leaning heavily on the counter, broken glass all around him. He had apparently knocked the glasses over attempting to reach something in the fridge. He was seemingly unconcerned by the broken glass around his bare feet, focusing only on grabbing food without falling over.

"Should you be up?"

"Cold said we were having a meeting. Thought I'd make an appearance. I am a professional after all."

Roy stepped over the broken glass and pulled Digger's arm until the mercenary had no choice but to either follow Roy or risk reinjuring himself.

"Sit down you idiot."

Digger sat gingerly on the loveseat.

"Get me the Thai food out of the fridge then."

Roy grabbed a take out box out of the fridge and handed it to Digger.

"Cheers mate."

Roy considered cleaning up the glass on the floor, but decided against it. He wasn't the butler. Someone else would do it. Or it would just be there forever. He imagined the safe house would eventually fall into complete disarray. Maybe Cold could hire a maid service that didn't ask any questions.

It had been just over a week since their escape. They had done little more in that time than stay hidden and find ways to keep the safe house stocked with take out food.

Roy was convinced the Rogues were far more likely to die of high cholesterol than from any outside enemy.

Hartley had kept a close eye on any of the transmissions coming out of the former STAR Labs. Nothing had suggested that ARGUS or the Flash knew where the Rogues where. It seemed they had managed to get away clean.

Then there were all the news reports. Roy didn't think he had watched as much TV in the last five years as he had in the last week. Their escape had been the main story every night. Each night THE ROGUES would flash across the screen, but there wasn't that same sense of urgency you usually got when criminals escaped from prison. The reporters talked about the Rogues like they were minor celebrities who had been convicted of a DUI. No real danger, just entertainment.

ARGUS had taken over the pipeline three days ago. Their entire press conference had consisted of them stating that if ARGUS had been in charge of the prison from the start, the Rogues never would have escaped. Of course, they didn't come right out and say it, but it was heavily implied. ARGUS failed to mention that the Rogues had already broken into and escaped from one of their secure buildings. Cold had managed to acquire videos of their escape from the ARGUS facility, and was planning on using them as leverage.

People were questioning why the escape from the pipeline had happened in the first place. Why was the former STAR Labs, a building that already caused so much damage to the city, entrusted with housing the meta humans? How safe was it to have a prison harboring dangerous meta humans so close to downtown? People wanted the facility moved, wanted the criminals shipped off somewhere else. There were protests outside the former STAR Labs every day. Which was good for the Rogues, it kept the people focused on STAR Labs and ARGUS and away from the search for the Rogues.

Roy found it odd to see his picture on the news every night. All of the Rogues were featured. Their names, their criminal histories, their powers or weapons, no detail was overlooked. Even tips on how to defend yourself against each of the Rogues, should you encounter them.

Mardon had laughed when one anchorman had suggested 'Duck and Cover' when dealing with the Weather Wizard.

"Right. Because if you are under a desk, I can't hit you with a bolt of lightening. Unbelievable."

Roy had thought it funny as well. Their advice on dealing with Roy's powers had been tantamount to 'Don't Look at Him'. Which was fine with Roy. It would make escaping easier if people thought they couldn't look directly at him.

The news seemed to embellish a great deal about their crimes. Everything was suddenly much grander than Roy remembered it. And they favored their aliases instead of their real names. It was always Rainbow Raider, never Roy Bivolo. Roy figured it made for good TV. 'Criminals Escape from Prison' doesn't have quite the same catch as 'Captain Cold Leads the Dastardly Rogues in Unbelievable Prison Break'.

Who even still used the word 'dastardly'?

Footage from the cop cars' dashboard cameras had been leaked relatively soon afterwards. Hartley said their escape was the most watched video on YouTube. A vast majority of people outside of Central seemed to think it was faked. But anyone from the city defended it as authentic, claiming other people were just jealous they didn't have super powered criminals in their city. Which was an odd thing to boast about.

Clearly, keeping a low profile was not going to work any more. The whole city, hell maybe the whole country, knew who the Rogues were now.

Cold and the others slowly filtered into the break room. Once they were all assembled, Cold began to outline his latest plan.

"It's time to act. Our enemies won't be expecting an attack so soon, we will use that to our advantage. I've managed to gain information about where the General is going to be tomorrow night."

"How do we know it isn't a trap?"

"It is most likely a trap. The only difference being, we know it is and can prepare for it. Our old friend Rickard Jones owns some new high-rise apartments on the North End. They are abandoned at the moment, with the Grand Opening not for another two weeks. There are four building in the complex and it would appear that they have been rotating the General between rooms and buildings each night. Thanks to a little money in the right hands, we know exactly where he will be."

"This will be a relatively straightforward job. Get in, get Collins, get out. Digger, you will stay in the van and work the coms."

"Him?"

"Yes. Hartley, I want you with Lisa taking out the guards on the first floor. Collins has studied us, he knows our tactics. He knows you handle our tech and coms so he won't be expecting you to be front and center of the fight. We are all going to have to change up our methods for this one."

"Mardon, you are going to stay in the van with Digger. You will create fog to hide our initial approach. But you will stay in the van, and will leave only if it is absolutely necessary. Collins wants you above all of us, the longer we keep you out of the fight, the more frustrated he will become. I want him to be focused on finding you, it should make him forget his training and make a mistake."

"How do we know he will do that?"

"Because he has already shown his hand by aligning with Jones. He is willing to do whatever it takes to kill Mardon, and by extension all of us, and that has made him sloppy. Predictable. He won't negotiate, he won't try to capture, he will only see victory when we are all dead."

"Roy, I want you taking out the guards in the parking garage. Odds are they will have something designed to reflect your powers. You will take several of Hartley's devices and distract the guards. Mick and Shawna will slip past in the confusion and take out the security system. After the security is down, Collins will make a run for it. I'll have cut off all his exits by freezing the doors to certain stairwells. We will herd him down into the parking garage where Hartley, Lisa, and Roy will be waiting."

Like all of Cold's plans, this one was meticulous and well thought out. If everything went correctly, there would be nothing to worry about. But there was always the possibility that something would go wrong. Some unforeseeable act that would blow everything to hell.

Which turned out to be quite literal this time.

Roy had taken out the guards in the parking garage of the East building. Jones apparently wasn't the most imaginative of people. The four buildings in the complex were simply named, North, South, East, and West. Collins was in building East tonight. Mick and Shawna had taken out the security system and Digger had just confirmed that he saw Collins on the cameras, he was on the 42nd Floor. Collins was on the way down, only able to enter the doors that Cold allowed him to.

It was all going so well.

Lisa and Hartley hadn't met up with Roy yet, he was just about to ask where they were when he felt the first explosion.

The whole building shook.

"What the hell?"

Cold was suddenly on the coms.

"What was that? Digger?"

"Looks like Jones just showed up to the party. He's got some sort of device, looks like a detonator. He just set off an explosion on the South building."

"Why the hell would he do that?"

"Don't know…except he looks a little confused about it himself. I think he meant to set off the East with all you in it. Bastard looks out of his mind. Think he might be chasing the dragon."

"What?"

Mardon interjected.

"He looks like he is hopped up on cocaine. Not going to be long before he just starts setting all his bombs off."

"Mardon, get out there and take care of him. Hartley, block the remote signal in case Jones manages to accidentally set off the right one."

"Got it."

"Lisa?"

"We had intercepted Collins early but he managed to slip away when the first explosion hit, looks like he headed up the stairs…" Roy could hear guns being fired. "We are having a little bit of trouble with some of the guards."

"Hartley focus on the bombs. Lisa, Mick and I will meet you and take care of the bodyguards. Shawna, get down and grab Roy from the parking garage. Then both of you get to the 42nd Floor. Check out Collins' room, make sure he hasn't slipped back there for any additional surprises. He can't go down, so he will have to keep moving up, see if you can't cut him off. Digger find Collins on the cameras and keep an eye out for any more surprises."

"You got it boss."

Shawna was in front of Roy almost immediately. Her ability to jump between places she could see on a live camera feed was getting better. Lisa had suggested getting some glasses for Shawna that they could stream live video of their locations into. That way Shawna could easily jump between them, without have to look at the screen on her phone.

"Ready?"

"Why not."

Roy didn't throw up this time. He was going to assume that meant Shawna had more control over her powers than anything to do with Roy's fortitude. The security cameras were only in the hallways, so they moved quietly to the room Collins had been occupying.

Roy's hand was on the door.

Another explosion rocked the building. This one had been much closer.

The florescent lights shut off and were replaced with the soft glow of the emergency lights.

"Shit."

Another explosion occurred almost immediately, this time, the building felt like it was rocking to one side.

"Digger?"

Mardon's having some trouble getting to Jones, he's got close to 25 guards with him. Mardon's pushing them back with wind but…"

"Digger? What? Damn it, answer me."

The next time Digger spoke it sounded like he was out of breath.

"Sorry, mate. Saw a couple of bastards trying to get around and flank Mardon. Had to intervene."

Shawna looked at Roy.

"That idiot shouldn't even be walking around, let alone running into the middle of a fight. He's probably undone all my work. I am not going to patch that asshole up again."

Shawna sounded irritated. Her voice held nothing but contempt and annoyance. And yet, Roy found he heard something else there as well.

Concern.

Shawna was concerned about Digger. Roy didn't know why that was a surprise. Sure, Shawna and Digger didn't interact very much. And when they did it usually involved Shawna wanting to kick Digger in the balls. There seemed to be nothing the two had in common. Not to mention all the sexist jokes Digger tended to make. Despite himself, Roy found himself smiling.

They were all a bunch of idiots.

Cold's voice came in clear over the headset.

"Shawna get down there and help them. Roy there are five guards heading up your way, take care of them then start heading back down to the parking garage."

Shawna looked at Roy and smirked.

"Duty calls."

Roy nodded and Shawna disappeared. The guards were taken out quickly. Fear had them dropping their weapons and running back the way they came. Roy picked up one of the guns. Roy glanced back at the door to Collins' room. Roy opened the door and entered. There was no one inside. Roy figured the man would have reappeared by now if he had been in here.

Roy looked out the window and could see the fighting happening in the courtyard below. There was a large storm cloud raining hail down upon the men fighting. Roy could make out Mardon and Shawna hiding behind a pillar. Digger was probably somewhere nearby. Roy couldn't see Jones.

Another explosion lit up the night. This time, Roy was certain it was this building that had been hit.

Cold was yelling in Roy's ear.

"Hartley!"

"Got it! I've got it! I managed to block the signal. Jones won't be able to set off any more of the explosive devices remotely."

Roy looked at the other high rise directly across from him. The entire building was smoking. It looked to be on the verge of collapse. If it went down, it could take out all four of the other buildings.

Who would rig their multi-million dollar apartments with C-4? They had really underestimated how insane Jones was, how far he would go to kill anyone who stood against him.

"Everyone out!"

"But we don't have an eye on Collins…"

"Jones might start detonating the damn things manually, or he might have another way to set them off remotely. We aren't taking any chances. Everyone still in the building, out now!"

Roy headed for the stairs, he was passing the 19th floor when he heard a door slamming on the other side. All of the guards had been taken care of. The only person left unaccounted for was Collins.

Roy knew he should keep going, get out before Jones set off the other explosives and the entire building collapsed. That was the smart thing to do.

That was the plan.

He opened the door to the 19th floor. The hallway was almost pitch black. Roy removed his shades. The hallway was lit by the emergency lights only, but they were flickering. Shadows danced across the walls. Roy pulled out the gun and held it in front of him. He moved slowly, listening for any noise.

Finally he heard it. Someone moving behind the door in front of him. He put his hand cautiously on the handle. The door was locked. It had to be Collins back there. Hiding. Hoping the Rogues would leave, that they wouldn't be able to search the entire complex before Jones got to them.

Roy could hear the others over his headset. Could hear them talking about Jones and the guards. Asking if everyone was out of the building. He ignored them.

Roy shot the door, causing it to swing open.

Collins was in the living room, his entire left arm completely encased in gold. His head jerked up, he lifted his right arm to aim a gun at Roy.

Roy caught the man's eye and hit him with a strong dose of fear. The man tried to fight it, but Roy held on to the emotion. He kept the General paralyzed with it. The gun fell out of the General's hand. He was standing completely still, his eyes wide and unmoving.

The gun felt strange in Roy's hand. He simply wasn't used to carrying one. Even prior to joining the Rogues, Roy had rarely used a gun. The last time he had even held one was at the docks after the fight with Brick Wall. An odd connection for his mind to make in this moment. Maybe not so odd really, considering what Roy was planning to do.

Roy lifted the gun and pointed it at the General's head. Collins was responsible for so much of the shit that the Rogues had been through. He had tried to kill them all on multiple occasions, had almost succeeded in killing Roy, not once but twice. No one could really blame Roy for this.

Roy knew it wasn't the plan. Knew Cold wouldn't approve. Knew that Cold had said to bring Collins out alive. Roy was never supposed to be this close to Collins, especially not with a gun in his hands.

It would be so easy. The others would understand. Hell, he could just say it was self-defense. That he didn't have a choice. They might not believe him, but they wouldn't question him about it either.

He had every right to kill Collins. The Rogues' code said they didn't kill cops, capes or innocent civilians. Nowhere did it mention vindictive generals who make it their life's mission to kill you and the people you care about. Collins was a murderer who would never stop. He should be put down.

It would be so simple. Roy's finger brushed against the trigger. His hands were steady.

Too simple.

Roy lowered the gun.

Collins didn't deserve a bullet in the brain. He deserved to suffer. And with what Cold had planned for him, Collins would wish Roy had pulled the trigger.

Roy took a few steps back, but kept the gun pointed at the man's head. Then he released Collins from his power. The General looked Roy dead in the eyes.

"You…coward."

Roy rolled his eyes.

"Yes, you are the courageous war hero and I am but a lowly criminal. Clearly you are the better man. Now move." Roy used the gun to herd the general through the door.

"You going to take me to your master? Let Snart kill me so that you can keep your hands clean? You killed Corporal Harris. You are nothing but a murderer."

"I'm also a thief."

Collins walked slowly in front of Roy, they headed back down the stairs to the parking garage. The others were already there waiting. Digger was sitting on the ground, Shawna was inspecting his bandages.

Cold looked upset. Most of them did actually.

"You stopped responding on your com."

Roy indicated to Collins with the gun.

"I got a little distracted. Jones?"

"Dead. Mardon managed to hit him with a bolt of lightening. Doubt he will be giving us any more trouble, I only know of one person who can survive a direct hit." Cold looked Roy in the eyes. No doubt the man could see what Roy had intended to do. Could see why Roy had really stopped responding. Cold nodded and turned away from Roy.

In an instant the seriousness of Leonard Snart was replaced with the showmanship of Captain Cold.

"General Collins…Richard. I must say this was much easier than I thought it would be."

"You smug bastard. Just kill me and get it over with. I'm not afraid of you."

Mick walked over and put a hand on the General's shoulder, forcing the man to his knees. Cold pointed his weapon at the General's head for a moment as though contemplating killing him, but then pulled it away quickly.

"How poetic. Unfortunately, your final words, as succinct and inspiring though they may be, are not going to be spoken here tonight. In fact, I would say you are going to have many, many years to think up just the right thing to say on your death bed."

"You said…"

"That I would kill you the next time I saw you. Yes. Unfortunately for you I've always been a bit mercurial in nature. I saw an opportunity to rid the Rogues of not only two enemies, but three."

"What are you…"

"You and Jones were annoyances. Thorns to be sure, that little stunt with the cops trying to kill Roy in the police station was particularly troublesome. But, that is also when you showed your hand. You see, without ARGUS at your back, you needed allies. And Rickard Jones was a known enemy of the Rogues. So you aligned yourself with a back stabbing drug dealer. Now, this is when most men would start to question whether or not they still had the moral high ground. But not you Richard. You just kept plowing forward. Kept trying to kill us, and that is when I realized we had you."

"You became obsessed and that made you sloppy. You ignored all your training, and all your experience. And you made some very…questionable choices. Ones that ARGUS were particularly interested in. Some of your choices might have lead to compromises in national security. Who knows the secrets you could have spilled? Amanda Waller was particularly interested in that information."

Collins was looking at Cold with pure hatred.

"You think you're better than me Snart? You were just as focused on getting revenge on me as I was on you. You and I are the same. If one of your precious Rogues is hurt or killed, you would have been just as ruthless. How are you any different than me?"

"The difference, Mr. Collins, is that I succeeded."

Cold stood up and put his weapon away. Suddenly, dozens of ARGUS soldiers flooded into the parking garage. Cold smirked at the kneeling general.

"Ms. Waller. Just in time."

Collins tried to get up off his knees. Mick put one hand on his shoulder and kept him down. Waller appeared from behind the armed men. She walked towards the Rogues as though this were just another business meeting. To her, it probably was.

"Amanda…"

"I gave you a chance Richard. I don't give second ones. Take him."

Several ARGUS agents grabbed Collins and pulled him away from the Rogues.

"This isn't over! I still have friends who will help me. I will get you…"

Cold ignored Collins and turned towards Waller.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist on one of those black site prisons this time Ms. Waller."

"Richard Collins will be lucky if he ever sees natural light again. ARGUS won't let an embarrassment like him go. Now, I believe we had a deal."

"Yes of course." Cold pulled a hard drive out of his jacket. "This contains all the information regarding General Collins and his attacks on the Rogues. As well as the video of our escape from your facility. Can't have the people know that the Rogues have beaten your security before. How would that look now that you have convinced everyone that the pipeline is completely secure?"

Waller actually smiled slightly.

"How do I know you don't have a copy somewhere?"

"Come now Amanda, don't be so facetious. Of course I have another copy somewhere. But if you keep your end of the deal, after a year I will destroy our copy. Like you said, just trying to keep everyone honest here."

Waller looked around at the Rogues. Appraising each of them for a split second. Her eyes briefly stopped on Digger. Digger smiled and gave her a small salute.

"You know he will betray you one day right?"

"Probably. But until then, he is a Rogue. And that means he falls under the same deal that…"

"I was the one who made the deal Snart, you don't have to remind me of it. You hand over General Collins alive, and the information regarding his activities, and ARGUS will not actively pursue the Rogues. I managed to keep that little red annoyance of yours away from here tonight, claiming it was an ARGUS training mission. So long as your activities are contained to Central City, our deal stands. But the second, you or any member of your group takes a step outside of Central…well that will be a different story entirely. And believe me Captain, you won't end up in the pipeline if I'm the one who catches you."

Cold smiled and nodded.

"Well then, don't take this personally, but I hope we never meet again. Ms. Waller."

Waller gave one last look at the Rogues. Then she turned and started to walk back towards the waiting cars.

"Bye Amanda!" Digger smiled and gave Waller a big wave.

Hartley rolled his eyes.

"You're an idiot."

"Oh come off it. Like you've never antagonized an old boss before."

Hartley remained tellingly silent.

The ARGUS agents left quickly, and soon it was just the Rogues left in the parking garage. Roy could still smell smoke in the air. The buildings were structurally unstable, they should probably get out of here soon. Digger looked up at Cold from his position on the ground.

"What now boss?"

"We managed to eliminate three potential threats. Now we need to prepare for any other enemies that might try to come after us." Cold looked to each of them. Mardon took a step forward.

"James Jesse seemed particularly invested in hating us, might even succeed in getting a little group of his own together." Each member of the Rogues added their input.

"The Flash is going to be relentless."

"And the cops."

"Not to mention we owe that Reverse Flash asshole for getting us locked up."

Cold only smiled that smug grin of his. Roy knew what that meant.

He had a plan.

"We will figure out how to deal with any future issues. For now, we follow the rules and we stick together."

Roy thought about that painting back in the safe house. The one that had been giving him so much trouble. The image he couldn't see. It started to come clearer in his mind now. He knew exactly what the painting was trying to show him now.

Cold didn't need to reiterate the rules or the plan. Didn't need to explain to them what they had to do to survive. It was all so obvious now. Of course they would prepare for any fight to come. Of course they would stick together.

That's just what families did.

* * *

A/N: Ok, that's the end. This fic went on about 50,000 words longer than I had planned. Anything else will have to be put in a future story, but it might be awhile before I do any more. I won't have much time to write for awhile.

I appreciate everyone who read or reviewed it. Hopefully you enjoy these idiots as much as I do.


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